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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23824195">When You Found Me</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecarlonethatalsowrites/pseuds/thecarlonethatalsowrites'>thecarlonethatalsowrites</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>RWBY</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, F/F, Fluff, Mutual Pining, maybe a bit of spice, school shooting mention</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 16:33:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>27,716</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23824195</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecarlonethatalsowrites/pseuds/thecarlonethatalsowrites</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A horrible event rattles Vale and causes Menagerie Private High School to shut down. Blake, in the epicenter of destruction, also shuts down. She's processed, for the most part. She just wants to put her head down and finish her last two years in peaceful anonymity.</p><p>Yang watches the aftermath of Menagerie and worries for her sister, who is starting high school this year. Somehow, Ruby deals with it better than she does. Her transition to normalcy is actually genuine, as opposed to Yang's carefully constructed walls.</p><p>Maybe, the two are exactly what each other needs.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Blake Belladonna/Yang Xiao Long</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>132</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Warning: This fic is set in the aftermath of a school shooting. however, this is a story about healing and so the actual shooting is never described. There are several mentions of it throughout, so be aware. My goal with this fic is to write about the Bees, not be insensitive to the topic. If this is something that will upset you, please be aware upon entering this fic</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>With only two weeks left in summer vacation, Yang’s sleep schedule was still fucked up. She blearily thumped down the stairs at one in the afternoon, eyes still half shut. Sunny Little Dragon, yeah right. Her childhood nickname was a joke, teasing her for her inability to get up in the mornings. Hopefully, there was still coffee left. Wait, was today a coffee day? </p><p>She paused in the middle of the stairs, squinting and trying to remember what day of the week it was. Sunday, right? No, Tuesday. Yang groaned and leaned up against the wall. Tonight, she swore, she would start getting to bed at a decent time so that school wasn’t hell in two weeks.</p><p>“Yang?” Her dad called from the kitchen. “Are you coming down?”</p><p>“Yes,” she said through a yawn. She clattered down the rest of the staircase, stretching her arms over her head.</p><p>Downstairs was incredibly bright, sunlight pouring through the windows. Her room had the curtains drawn, leaving her in blessed darkness. Yang blinked and squinted as she stumbled her way to the kitchen. Her attention went immediately to the coffee maker. </p><p>“Score,” she whispered, pumping her fist in celebration. It was still half full. Though probably cold, she could always reheat it in the microwave. She heard the tv from the living room droning on as she grabbed a mug from the cabinets.</p><p>“Yang, will you please come in here,” Taiyang said. His voice was quiet and serious. Yang froze, casting her thoughts back. What did she do recently that she could get in trouble for? “Now please.” Yang sighed and unstuck her hand from the empty mug and left it on the counter. </p><p>“I’ll be back for you,” she promised before heeding the summons.</p><p>Taiyang was on the couch, sitting more upright than Yang had ever seen him in this room. His shoulders were ever so slightly tensed up toward his ears. Yang’s eyebrows shot up when she saw Ruby sitting beside him, tucked into his side like she used to when she was little and scared of the movies they would watch. Ruby was even worse than she was when it came to being conscious during the daylight hours. Usually, during the summer, she was heading to bed around this time.</p><p>“What’s up?” Yang asked, vaulting over the back of the couch to sit on Taiyang’s other side. He didn’t even admonish her like he usually did, too fixated on the television. Yang’s blood went cold. Something was really wrong.</p><p>“Reports coming out of Menagerie Private High School,” the reporter on the news was saying. “Five dead and eleven left critically wounded in a shooting that occurred earlier this morning. The perpetrator was an eighteen-year-old male student who attended school there…”</p><p>The report continued, but Yang didn’t hear it over the static that filled her ears. Five dead. Menagerie was less than twenty minutes away from her school. It was one of Beacon’s most prominent rivals. They always started a few weeks before Beacon, since they were a private school. It was so early in the year for something this horrible to happen. And so close to home.</p><p>She barely felt Taiyang’s arm go around her shoulders, even when his grip made it hard to breathe. Or maybe it wasn’t his grip at all. She watched the aerial view of the school on the television change to a frontal shot of an ambulance, lights flashing. Her hands shook as she clung to Taiyang, feeling very much like she was six again and he was patching up her scraped knee. This was no mere scrape. Eleven wounded…</p><p>A sniffle from Taiyang’s other side had Yang groping around his back, searching for Ruby. She found the hood of her sweatshirt and grabbed it like Ruby was about to be torn away at any moment. She couldn’t bring herself to care if her tugging cut off Ruby’s windpipe. Her own chest was tight as a drum. The next breath she drew was painful and shallow. Any deeper and Yang felt as though something would snap inside her.</p><p>“What’s going to happen?” Ruby asked in a voice so small Yang could barely connect it with her vibrant little sister.</p><p>“It’s going to be ok,” Taiyang said, voice thick. Yang was so close to him she could feel the vibrations in his chest. “We’re all ok.” He held them both tightly with trembling hands. Yang could feel Ruby convulsing with suppressed sobs. She felt close to that point herself. Five dead. She wondered if it was anyone she knew. Before their parents sent them to private high school, some of those kids went to the same middle school Yang. The same middle school Ruby was leaving this year.</p><p>The thought stilled her with a deadly calm. Ruby was going to high school in just a few weeks. This had to be the precursor to an already difficult time? Against her will, images flashed of Beacon in the same situation. Yang could all but hear gunshots and screams echoing down the fluorescent-lit hallways. She imagined Ruby, huddled in terror on the other side of the school where Yang couldn’t get to her. </p><p>She squeezed her sister’s hoodie more tightly at the thought. She’d always been overprotective of her, but in this circumstance, Yang couldn’t think of that as a bad thing. As the news was still proving in the background, the danger was real and could pop up at any time. Yang’s stomach sank along with her excitement about going back to school. She didn’t know what she would do if anything like this happened at Beacon. If Ruby was hurt somehow.</p><p>Taiyang took a shuddering breath. Yang allowed herself to be consoled by his presence, for now. A new fear had taken root in her heart, one that was undeniable and would from now on sit closer to the front of her mind.</p><hr/><p>Yang’s thumbs tapped uncontrollably on her pleather steering wheel. There were two finger-sized bare spots near the top of it from the many hands who owned this car. She added to the wear absently while watching the front door like a hawk, waiting for Ruby to step through it again. Her backpack was already in the passenger seat and the car was running. Yang didn’t mind the delay too much. It gave the old clunker a chance to warm up a bit.</p><p>The front door eased open and Ruby slowly backed out of it. Yang saw rather than heard her talking to Taiyang, gesturing and wincing with every passing second that made her late. Yang took pity on her and rolled down her window.</p><p>“Dad, we’re going to be late!” She yelled over the rumbling engine. Ruby slammed the front door and scrambled to the car.</p><p>“Thanks,” she said breathlessly as she slid into the passenger seat. Yang slipped on her aviators and twisted to look out the back window.</p><p>“No problem,” she said. She started backing the car out of their driveway. “Now here’s the question. Was dad crying?” She smirked.</p><p>“He practically was,” Ruby said. “He’s making such a big deal about me going to high school. I’m fine! I’m practically a grown-up.” She crossed her arms and harrumphed.</p><p>“Are you the one driving to school?” Yang asked, staring her down over the tops of her aviators. “That’s what I thought. You’re not allowed to grow up until you’re thirty.”</p><p>“Yang, you’re as bad as Dad,” Ruby groaned. “Worse. Because you’re not a grown-up either.”</p><p>“I’m more grown-up than you.” Yang stuck out her tongue. Ruby elbowed her over the center console, laughing. “Seriously. I’ve got more than half a foot on you, shorty.”</p><p>“Just wait. One day I’m going to be six feet tall and you’ll be sorry you ever made fun of me.” Yang laughed, taking a sharp turn off their street to toss Ruby out of her seat.</p><p>“It’ll take a fucking miracle for that to happen,” she said confidently. Ruby pouted and stared out the window, purposefully ignoring Yang.</p><p>“Hey look,” she said as they neared the exit of their subdivision. “Who’s that?” Yang squinted to see who she was talking about.</p><p>There was a girl leaning against the street sign at the intersection with the main road. Her head was down as she looked at her phone, dark hair spilling over her shoulders. Between her backpack and the fact she was waiting at the bus stop, she was obviously a student. She looked about their age. Yang was surprised she didn’t recognize her.</p><p>“I have no idea,” she said. They pulled up next to her, and Yang tried to get a glance at her face without being too obvious about it. She didn’t look up and Yang was forced to pull onto the road before it got too awkward idling in the road beside her. “New kid? She’s at the bus stop, so I bet she goes to our school.”</p><p>“Wow. We live in the same subdivision and I’ve never seen her before,” Ruby said. “I think we play too many video games.”</p><p>“How fucking dare you!” Yang cried, appalled that her own flesh and blood would say something so horrible. “She probably just moved here, that’s why we don’t recognize her. Besides, it’s a big neighborhood. We can’t know fucking <em> everyone </em> who lives here.”</p><p>“What grade do you think she’s in?” Ruby asked, ignoring Yang’s outrage. Yang let it drop.</p><p>“She’s probably not a senior or a junior if she’s waiting for the bus,” Yang said. “She’d drive if she could.”</p><p>“If she’s new she probably didn’t get a parking pass,” Ruby argued. “You had to fight tooth and nail for one. Literally, I still remember you coming home with a black eye on the last day of school last year.”</p><p>“It was well earned,” Yang said sagely, remembering the fight. All the rising juniors swarmed the office for the remaining passes. It had been a bloodbath. “I fought for my honor that day.”</p><p>“Dad was so pissed,” Ruby snorted. “I thought he was going to take your keys away, and then it wouldn’t even matter that you got the pass in the first place.”</p><p>“Do you ever think I piss him off so much so that when it’s your turn to do all this he’s already seen the worst? I’m doing you a favor by softening him up for you.”</p><p>“If you thought this morning was soft, then our school system has failed to teach you basic definitions,” Ruby said. She shuddered as she remembered the morning. Taiyang had been the definition of clingy and overbearing. Yang knew why. She was struggling to contain herself from doing the exact same thing. Ruby starting high school was stressful enough, but with the community still reeling from the Menagerie shooting Yang’s stress was through the roof.</p><p>“I can’t handle everything for you. Some things you have to do for yourself. It’s a right of passage. Do you remember my first day of high school?” Yang asked, trying to distract herself and lighten the mood.</p><p>“Oh my god. He tried to braid your hair.” Yang’s eye twitched. All through elementary and middle school she’d put up with the tangled knots Taiyang claimed were braids. She appreciated the effort, but the man didn’t know when he was up against an unwinnable battle, one that gave Yang PTSD when anyone tried to touch her hair. Ruby was lucky she always kept her’s short.</p><p>“Sometimes you just have to draw a goddamn line in the sand,” Yang said.</p><p>They pulled into the school’s parking lot at an agonizing pace. Traffic was a crawl with the enormous student population. Yang nearly got in an accident trying to park. The benefit of having a beater car was it had already taken so much punishment there was little she could do to wreck it any worse. She drove with abandon, drifting into a parking spot with only inches to spare between her bumper and the cars on either side of her. The boy she beat to the spot gave her a glare from behind the wheel of his brand new jeep. It made Yang grin.</p><p>“So I’m not going to baby you like Dad, but he did make me promise to walk you to your first class,” Yang said. She swung her backpack over one shoulder and slammed the car door behind her. Ruby groaned and sagged where she stood, her head lolling back.</p><p>“Please do not,” she begged. She followed Yang to the front doors. “He’s not here! He doesn’t have to know!”</p><p>“Trust me, he’ll find out one way or another,” Yang said. “He’s friends with so many of the teachers here. They call him regularly.” </p><p>“Is that why you can never get away with anything?” Ruby asked.</p><p>“You’re about to be in the same fucking boat.”</p><p>“What are you talking about? <em> I’m </em>the sweet one. You may look like the golden child, but I’m here to disprove that,” Ruby said, flicking her hair dramatically. “They’re going to forget you even exist.”</p><p>Yang gasped with an appropriate level of disbelief. “You take that back!”</p><p>“Nope!” Ruby said. “Face it, Yang. I’m going to be way cooler than you ever were. Not that it’s very difficult.”</p><p>“Oh, you’re going to pay for that,” Yang growled playfully. She lunged forward, grabbing Ruby by the jacket. Ruby squealed as Yang trapped her in a headlock. She flailed against Yang with open-handed blows, laughing too hard to put up a good fight as Yang dug her knuckles into her scalp.</p><p>“Stop what you’re doing right now!” The harsh yell made Yang’s heart stop. She looked up immediately. A security officer in a white uniform was marching their way, one hand on the baton at his hip.</p><p>Yang dropped Ruby as though she caught on fire, the playful mood entirely sucked out of the air. Ruby laughed for a brief moment until she also caught sight of the officer. Her eyes went wide.</p><p>“Oh, shiitake mushrooms,” she whispered. Yang silently echoed the sentiment. Her entire body was trembling. She shoved her hands into her pockets to hide their shaking.</p><p>“What do you kids think you’re doing?” The officer demanded. He loomed above them, eyes darting from one sister to another.</p><p>“I–I, she’s my sister,” Yang stammered. It was the only thing she could think to say. She couldn’t take her eyes off that baton, except when she noticed the gun on the officer’s other hip.</p><p>“We were just goofing around,” Ruby said. “Is that a problem?”</p><p>“Things are changing around here,” the officer said. They were starting to draw a crowd of their wide-eyed classmates. “There will be no more tolerance for bullying, understand?”</p><p>“We’re sisters,” Yang repeated hopelessly. She glanced around. Plenty of people stopped to watch, but none of them were stepping in. Why was there a security officer with a gun at school? None of this made any sense.</p><p>“What is the meaning of this?” Yang could have cried with relief when she saw Ms. Goodwitch pushing her way through the crowd. Strict but fair, she was a teacher who was generally reliable in hearing out both sides of the story. She was usually the last person Yang wanted to see when in a dispute — Yang was often the one on the harsher end of her discipline — but in this case, she was like a guardian angel.</p><p>The officer hooked his thumbs in his belt, not looking the least bit chagrined. “Caught these two roughhousing. Under Mr. Ironwood’s policy, Atlas Security is here to enforce discipline amongst the students we protect.”</p><p>“Is it possible you can do so <em> without </em> terrorizing the children?” Ms. Goodwitch asked coolly. She nodded at Ruby, who was close to tears. Yang was almost at the same point. “They’re under enough stress as it is. This one is a freshman. Do you want this experience to define the next four years of her schooling?”</p><p>The officer finally had the gall to look bashful. “Well, no. I just–I’ll be going now.” He shuffled off into the crowd. Yang sagged with relief.</p><p>It didn’t last long when Ms. Goodwitch turned her sharp gaze on her. “Really, Yang. I hoped you would know better. Things are changing around here. We all must show some restraint.” Yang’s cheeks burned with embarrassment. Ms. Goodwitch turned to Ruby. “This is your sister?”</p><p>“Yes ma’am,” Yang said, too shaken to show her usual cheekiness.</p><p>“Welcome to Beacon,” Goodwitch said with a sharp nod. “What is everyone still doing here? Don’t you all have homeroom?” The crowd scattered, fleeing for the building. </p><p>“Come on, let’s get going,” Yang said, pulling herself together for Ruby’s sake. </p><p>She squashed her fear so well she showed no surprise at seeing the metal detectors just inside the doors. They joined the uneasy line to pass through the gray gates, watched closely by one of the new security officers. Not the same one who confronted them, to Yang’s relief. Ruby still shuddered when he examined her up and down.</p><p>“Who thought putting scary men with guns in schools would make us feel safe from scary boys with guns?” She asked when they rounded the corner. At least there didn’t seem to be any more officers past the front doors.</p><p>“For some people it does,” Yang said. “It’ll all die down soon enough. We’ll get so used to them we won’t even know they’re there by the end of the week.” Her confidence was a comforting lie. A believable one too, from the way Ruby relaxed.</p><p>Yang forced herself into familiar ease as she started seeing people she knew. She gave waves or a quick word to almost everyone they passed. It was comforting seeing so many people she recognized and missed over the summer. To fall into the persona they expected of her. The persona they liked. If there were more people she didn’t know than usual, Yang chalked it up to an unusually large freshman class. They were in the freshman wing, after all. </p><p>“Alright, here you are,” Yang said when they reached Ruby’s homeroom. “You can go ahead and text Dad to tell him I delivered you safe and sound.”</p><p>“No way.” Ruby rolled her eyes. “If I text him, he’ll blow up my phone all hour. We can tell him at dinner.” </p><p>“Suit yourself,” Yang said. She hovered awkwardly for a moment, not quite willing to let Ruby go yet. She pulled her into a hug, deciding that any potential embarrassment it caused for Ruby was worth it. “Good luck! We’ll see if we can meet up at lunch, yeah?”</p><p>“Ugh, get off of me,” Ruby said. She wiggled out of Yang’s arms. “See you at lunch.”</p><p>Yang swaggered into her homeroom seconds before the bell. The seats were mostly full, with a few kids sitting on their desks rather than their chairs. The classroom reeked of first-day posturing. Yang looked around for a seating chart, grinning when she didn’t find one.</p><p>“Order in the class! We’ll have order now!” Mr. Oobleck said as soon as the bell rang. He dashed around as if he sapped energy from the students he motioned into their seats. He looked up at Yang still in the doorway once everyone was mostly settled. “Xiao Long! Late, I see.” Oobleck only had one volume. Loud.</p><p>“You know me well enough by now to know I had to make an entrance,” Yang said easily. There were a few chuckles from the class.</p><p>“Yes, yes. You’ve made it. Sit down.”</p><p>Yang made her way to an open seat near the middle, scanning the room to see who was there as she went. She recognized everyone, knew most of them by name. All except for one girl sitting next to the seat Yang was angling toward. She was pleasantly surprised to recognize her.</p><p>“Hey, I saw you earlier,” Yang said, flopping down into her chosen seat. Oobleck was fumbling with the projector. They had a moment to talk. “You were at the bus stop in my subdivision this morning.”</p><p>The girl didn’t look up from her book. “The bell rang. Why are you talking to me?” She said flatly. Yang looked around the room. It was nowhere as outwardly chaotic as before, but everyone was deep in their own whispered conversations.</p><p>“Because I’m being fucking nice?” She said. “I’ve never seen you before today. I’m Yang.” She gave her most winning smile as the girl looked up briefly from her book. </p><p>“Blake,” she said. Yang’s heart stuttered. From only the briefest flash, Yang thought Blake had the most beautiful golden eyes she’d ever seen. Enough that she forgot all about her encounter with the security officer. All that mattered at this moment was getting Blake to keep talking to her.</p><p>“What are you reading?” She asked, unable to keep the words from tumbling out of her mouth.</p><p>“A book,” Blake said.</p><p>“I’m familiar with those,” Yang said, matching her sarcasm. “I’ve even read a few.”</p><p>“Good for you.” Blake looked back down at her book. Yang pursed her lips in frustration.</p><p>“What’s it about?” She was determined not to let this conversation die. If Blake looked up just once more, she would count it as a victory.</p><p>“I don’t think you’d be interested.”</p><p>“Try me.” Their desks were close enough that Yang could lean over to plant her elbow on Blake’s. She rested her cheek on her fist and tried to read a few lines from the book. Her eyes kept skipping back to Blake’s face. God, she was distractingly pretty.</p><p>Blake looked up again and Yang’s breath caught in her throat. “It’s about a man with two souls trying to reconcile with the fact that one of them is a monster and one of them is good. It’s about a moral struggle with oneself.”</p><p>“C-cool,” Yang stuttered, feeling anything but. She scrambled for something better to say. “The way you describe it has me really <em> soul </em>-d on it.” Puns. Always a great fallback. She shot double finger guns at Blake, who rolled her eyes and groaned. </p><p>“You’re absolutely horrible,” Blake said. Her lips were pursed to hide a smile. Though guarded, she hadn’t told outright Yang to fuck off yet. Yang wanted to probe deeper, draw out the hints of personality she was showing. </p><p>“Is that for class or fun?”</p><p>“You sure ask a lot of questions,” Blake said. She closed her book on her thumb to keep her place. The fingers of Yang’s free hand drummed on her desk. “And you don’t know anything about personal space.”</p><p>“Shit, is it bothering you?” Yang asked. She tensed, ready to pull back in case she truly was unwelcome.</p><p>Blake took on a pensive look, examining Yang right back. “It’s interesting. You don’t know when to quit.”</p><p>The peppy school news jingle blasted out in the classroom at a volume that made everyone wince. Yang glared at the kids on the screen, loathing them for interrupting this conversation.</p><p>She slid back into her own seat and leaned one elbow over the back of her chair. Paying attention to the morning announcements was hard when her attention kept sliding over to Blake. It was lucky they didn’t do much at homeroom. Yang couldn’t imagine herself learning much other than the exact way Blake’s hair fell over her shoulder if they sat next to each other in an actual class. She was far too gay for this. </p><hr/><p>Blake’s first day at Beacon was shaping up to be pretty terrible. Her parents were far too overbearing in the morning – she didn’t think she’d ever escape the litany of hugs and kisses. She knew they were just worried, but it wasn’t like Adam was about to be shooting up any more schools anytime soon.</p><p>The bus was just as bad, with kids screaming and kicking the back of her seat, jostling her too much to concentrate on her book. It made her miss her mom driving her to school, even if it was embarrassing showing up with a teacher. At least it was better than being surrounded by absolute <em> animals </em>. She curled her lip. They were supposed to be high schoolers, for god’s sake. If this was what public school was going to be like, she’d rather be shipped off to boarding school.</p><p>She curled in on herself as she walked off the bus, as much to preserve her limbs as to escape the notice of the uniformed security officer standing near the school’s entrance. Her heart raced as she passed through the metal detectors just inside. It was a great effort to take one trembling step after another into the unfamiliar school. She was glad for the tour the principal took her and her parents on when they registered her here just over a week ago. Beacon was easily three times larger than Menagerie.</p><p>Blake zipped to her homeroom with her eyes locked on the floor. She had no interest in joining any of the clusters of students clogging the halls. There were hugs and squeals abound as girls who’d probably seen each other every other day over the summer reunited dramatically. Metal slammed as guys wrestled each other playfully into the lockers. Blake ignored three different people trying to hand her flyers, not even bothering to see what was on them after glancing at the first. The heading read <em> What to do in case of an Active Shooter </em>. Blake scoffed. As if she needed to be reminded.</p><p>Her homeroom was mostly empty, so Blake chose an innocuous seat in the middle of the room, away from the handful of other students who were already here. She pulled out her book, staunchly set to ignore them. Two were sitting in the front row, and the other kept nervously looking toward the door. Try hards, a loser, and a new kid. What a gathering.</p><p>Try as she might, her book was anything but enrapturing. Though the last two weeks had been filled with extensive counseling, being back in a school setting had Blake entirely on edge. She could easily imagine the shouts from the hallway turning from playful to terrified. Her leg bounced against her will. She hadn’t seen a single person she recognized. Her friends had all been scattered across the district, fitting in where they could. Blake felt no kinship with her new classmates. None of these kids knew the danger they were in, not even the well-meaning girl who tried to hand her the flyer.</p><p>At least that meant she wouldn’t be recognized as the girl who’s ex shot up her old school.</p><p>She squeezed her eyes shut as the words blurred on the page in front of her. Try as she might, nothing here held any interest for her. After Menagerie closed down, too small to withstand the heat after the shooting as parents frantically pulled their kids out of it, all of her friends were spread out among the schools in the area. Most of them lived on the north side of town, closer to Menagerie. Blake lived so far away her parents wouldn’t have considered enrolling her except for the fact that her mom worked there. Beacon High was closer, but Menagerie was better, they claimed.</p><p>Not enough to keep it from being the latest in a long string of headlines.</p><p>Kids started to trickle in, and Blake did her best to put out the most hostile vibes she could. She didn’t want to talk to anyone. She just wanted to read and be left alone. The teacher zoomed in at a frightening pace, nearly knocking over a handful of kids huddling at the door. Blake held back a chuckle at their misfortune. </p><p>As the class filled up, it only got louder and louder. Blake scowled and tried to concentrate more intensely on her book. For as unenrapturing as it was at the moment, it was one of her fallbacks. Like a comfort blanket in the form of a book. But the screaming and roughhousing from the hallway was spilling into the classroom. It was impossible to concentrate at all in such a zoo. Especially when a palpable ripple went through the classroom. It was so strong even Blake looked up to see what caused it.</p><p>A girl with a cheeky grin was standing in the doorway. Freckles dotted her nose, looking cute and natural as her smile crinkled the corners of her eyes. Her wild blonde hair spilled out from underneath a backward snapback, and her thumbs were hooked in the pockets of ripped, acid-washed jeans. Her t-shirt was well worn and fit her perfectly, showing off the muscles in her arms and tan skin from the summer. </p><p>Blake quickly looked down as she started bantering with the teacher, fighting the blush that threatened to rise on her cheeks. Not only was she jaw-droppingly gorgeous, but she had the presence to set everyone in the room whispering about her, drawn to her. Blake included. She either didn’t notice or didn’t care as she sauntered to a seat without devastating nonchalance. Blake held her breath as she plopped down next to her. And then she was speaking to her, and Blake couldn’t help but respond.</p><p>She left homeroom dazed and remembering only one thing. The girl she was talking to was named Yang. She couldn’t even remember if she made a fool of herself or not. What a terrible first impression to make at a new school. Yeah, that’s what she would go with if questioned. It was hard being the new kid.</p><p>By the time she reached her next class, it became clear that the grapevine at this school was extensive and expeditious. People whispered as she sat, glancing away as she stared at them openly. She was looking forward to second period English until for some unspecified reason she suddenly became the center of attention.</p><p>A girl with short red hair wearing far more pink than anyone should have been allowed to launched toward Blake when she chose her seat, sprawling halfway across Blake’s desk.</p><p>“So <em> you’re </em> the girl Yang talked to all through homeroom,” she said. Her eyes were wide and unblinking as she examined Blake.</p><p>“Why are you on my desk?” Blake asked.</p><p>“Because how else was I supposed to get your attention when your head was filled with <em> dreamy </em> Yang Xiao Long? She always seduces the pretty new kids and never leaves any for the rest of us.” The last part she muttered under her breath. Blake kept her face a mask, but her stomach immediately filled with aggressive, headbanging butterflies.</p><p>“Good to know,” Blake said dryly. In her head, she was desperately trying to think of a way to prompt this girl into expanding on what she said without seeming too interested.</p><p>“Jesus, Nora. Do you know how to not scare every person you meet?” Nora was pulled off of her desk by a blonde boy. For a split second, Blake looked up and her chest felt hollow as she saw Sun’s friendly face. Realizing it wasn’t him was a horrible sensation in her gut. “Sorry about her, she can be a lot. You’re Blake, right?”</p><p>“I’ve been at this school for less than an hour,” Blake said. “Why do people already know me?”</p><p>“Because they watch Yang like piranhas and she was friendly to you. I’m Jaune, by the way,” the boy introduced himself. “Good way to start your first day. Shoot right for the top of the social hierarchy.”</p><p>“That’s not what I’m here for.”</p><p>“It’s what everyone thinks you’re here for.” Blake groaned, clenching her teeth so hard she worried she would break one. “But if it’s not then good luck. I’ll try to keep Nora in check, but I can’t do the same for the entire student population.”</p><p>“I only respect you because I can steal from you,” Nora said, baring her teeth. Jaune winced.</p><p>“That’s...not true,” Jaune said. “We’re going to be going now.”</p><p>As he dragged Nora off, it seemed as though once she got a certain distance from Blake she couldn’t maintain her attention. Blake heard her loudly rattling off about a weird bird she saw that morning. She sighed, relieved her attention moved on.</p><p>She couldn’t say the same about the rest of the school. For the rest of the day, she scowled and bore the stares and whispers at the same time she listened right back. She wanted to know what she was in for now that she was forever associated with the infamous Yang Xiao Long. As much as people were interested in Blake for her novelty, Yang had their attention in the palm of her hand. It was apparently the natural order of things.</p><p>And why wouldn’t it be? Blake paid attention to what people said. The general consensus was positive – people liked Yang, a lot. She was fun, flirty. The life of the party. Her attention made people feel like the most important person in the world. From her own experience, Blake could attest to that. </p><p>But there was more than that. Blake heard that for all of Yang’s flirtation, she was notorious for leading people on. There seemed to be an argument undercutting all discussion of Yang about when the last time she gave someone the time of day was. Despite the variation of opinion, everyone agreed it had been a long time. She was too pretty for it to bite her in the ass, though. Too pretty for it to tank people’s opinions of her.</p><p>It was more than a little infuriating to hear. No one person could be <em> that </em>perfect, but from her own experience and through keeping her ear to the ground, Blake couldn’t find any cracks in the facade whatsoever. Not that she was all that invested. Of course she wasn’t.</p><p>She was almost able to believe herself.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This only had a very rough round of editing, so apologies if there are any typos in this! Enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Despite Yang’s every attempt to force things back to normal, a whole month passed and things were still weird around school. Yang saw how students, especially the handful of transfers from Menagerie, flinched every time someone slammed a locker too loud or dropped a textbook on the linoleum floor. The metal detectors and security officers faded from novelty, though the latter practically overran the school. They made themselves a big deal. Students hurried past them in the halls, not wanting to be the target of their aggression masquerading as protection. The Menagerie shooting was still all that was on everyone’s minds. Principal Ozpin had held two separate assemblies on the matter, which was two too many. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The worst part about all of this was that Yang wasn’t immune either. This was not how she wanted Ruby’s freshman year to be. It was supposed to be smooth sailing; excelling at her classes, making tons of friends. Her biggest worry should have been Yang embarrassing her in front of her friends. Furthermore, Yang’s should have been studying for the standardized tests that would determine her future. But now Ruby flinched the same as everyone else, and Yang lost her mind with worry every time Ruby was late to meet her at the car. That worry was starting to weigh on her in the form of sleepless nights. She hoped her friends didn’t notice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow, Yang you look terrible,” Weiss said as she sat down at their lunch table. They noticed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How kind of you to point out, asshole” Yang drawled. Out of the corner of her eye saw a pair of Atlas Officers marching toward a table of roughhousing boys. Yang planted an elbow on the table and rested her cheek on her knuckles as she dragged a fork through her mac and cheese. “Man, I’m really fucking sick of these guys.” Her friends turned to see what she was talking about.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eh, Cardin’s always been a jerk,” Jaune said, speaking from personal experience. “Is it so bad if they put him in his place every once in a while?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s a line, though. They nearly assaulted me and Ruby for doing the same thing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on Yang, when are you going to let that go? It was an honest mistake, and Goodwitch smoothed it over,” Weiss said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know, I think I agree with Yang on this one,” Pyrrha said. “Their presence is certainly...unnerving.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What would be more unnerving is a guy coming in here and shooting the whole place up,” Nora said. She aimed a spoonful of peas at Weiss as if to make her point with a physical demonstration. Ren grabbed her wrist and shook his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The intention behind them is to make us all feel safe,” he said. “I can’t fault the administration for that.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But all they’re doing is reminding people of things they’d rather forget about!” Ruby said. She and Yang had this conversation a thousand times in the car. Yang hoped their similar opinions weren’t because she unintentionally bullied Ruby into thinking that way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not like we can ignore reality,” Weiss said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I heard they caught some kid with a shotgun in the back of his car a few counties over.” Jaune, on the other hand, was certainly only agreeing with Weiss because of his not-so-subtle crush on her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wasn’t he coming back from a hunting trip and forgot to take it out of his car?” Pyrrha asked. Yang was starting to regret bringing this up in the first place. The conversation was getting heated.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Does it matter? He brought a </span>
  <em>
    <span>gun</span>
  </em>
  <span> to </span>
  <em>
    <span>school</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Only psychos do that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But you have to agree that expelling him is a little extreme.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I agree that bullets are extreme.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yang’s fingers dug into the edge of the table. Her friends’ argument faded into the background, overpowered by the ringing in her ears. She caught snippets of conversation from the other tables. Everyone was talking about the same goddamn thing. Couldn’t they give it a rest? Weren’t they all just as exhausted of it all as Yang was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She stood abruptly, knocking her chair backward with a screech. It would have tipped over if Yang didn’t react quickly to steady it. Her friends fell silent as she picked up her lunch tray.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not very hungry anymore,” she said before spinning on her heel. No one followed as she dumped her mostly uneaten lunch in the trash on her way out of the cafeteria. Yang didn’t want any of them to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I need to use the bathroom,” she told the security officer standing at the door. She didn’t wait for his go-ahead to storm out into the hallway, taking long, agitated strides to get away from the wasp’s nest of a cafeteria.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She didn’t have a specific destination in mind. Not everyone had lunch this period. She darted past rooms where a class was in session, trying to draw as little attention to herself as possible. For two years this school hadn’t cared how she spent her time during lunch. Now, the consequences of wandering the halls without a pass could be as bad as detention. The world had gone crazy overnight, and Yang was sick of everyone overreacting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Guilt turned her stomach at the same time anger heated her cheeks. She knew the security measures were there for a reason. The haunted eyes of the Menagerie kids who transferred to Beacon were enough of a justification. Her anger was directed at her own helplessness. Yang was never one to sit idly by and let things happen to her. She was a doer, a thrillseeker. If there was a problem, she would face it head-on and beat it into submission.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was different, though. It was no tangible problem. Only a dark what-if that suddenly seemed more plausible now that it happened so close. It felt like the more people talked about it the more concrete it was, while at the same time it always stayed just out of Yang’s reach. It was unbearable. She loved her friends, but they were as bad as the rest of the school.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She ended up in front of the library when her fury ran dry. There was no better option to retreat to. She’d almost circled back around to the cafeteria, which was the last place she wanted to be, and another lap of the school might get her in trouble. With a sigh, Yang pushed open the door. As long as she was quiet, hopefully, this would be a decent refuge. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yang had never spent much time here, but she thought it was usually more populated than it was right now. The first floor had a few dozen blocky computers taking up half the space, and occasionally classes came down here to do lab work. All the screens were black at the moment. She heard the squeaky book cart from the shelves that took up the rest of the space around the computers. Mrs. Greene was out of sight and reshelving. Yang didn’t waste any time. The place one could really get lost was on the second floor. She made her way up the stairs, hoping to find a nook where she could chill in peace.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The second floor was abandoned as the first, and Yang steered toward the far corner. There was a small reading nook near the front windows with comfortable armchairs. Usually, it was occupied but with the library as dead as it was now Yang liked her chances of finding a seat there. She dragged her fingers along the books, crunching the plastic protecting their covers. Some of them were truly crusty.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She stopped short when she exited the aisle and saw to her surprise that the reading nook was occupied. She blinked a few times as Blake glared at her over the book she was reading, one eyebrow raised. Yang was no stranger to that look. Even after her best efforts during homeroom, she couldn’t get past Blake’s cool exterior.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know this is a library,” she said softly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The books kind of gave it away,” Yang replied. She was about to turn around and find another place, not in the mood for their usual banter, when she noticed the lunchbox sitting on the table next to Blake.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re supposed to be quiet in a library,” Blake said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Isn’t having food in here against the rules too?” Yang stuck her hands into the pockets of her joggers and leaned one shoulder against the bookshelf. Blake glanced down at her lunchbox.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mrs. Greene and I have an arrangement,” she said. “She’s very sympathetic to the fact I don’t like crowds. Especially after what happened.” She threw her head back, one hand sweeping against her forehead dramatically. Yang heard a kernel of truth amidst the sarcasm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t want to deal with them either.” Her serious tone made Blake pause.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. I don’t,” Blake admitted, letting her hand fall to her lap. Yang sighed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. They’re all just so fucking stupid. And insensitive. What’s the point of talking about it bringing it up only makes everyone stressed?” She dragged the toe of her converse against the carpet. The laces were coming untied. “Besides, I’m sure you don’t want to be reminded of that shit every day.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blake was quiet. Yang wondered if she took it too far. She knew she could be a lot sometimes, especially when she was passionate about something like this. Her friends didn’t have a problem with it; they liked that about her. She wasn’t used to restricting herself. Blake didn’t seem the type to want someone so boisterous around.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you...want to eat lunch with me?” Yang’s head popped up in surprise. Blake’s book was closed entirely, set aside on the small table next to her chair. She motioned with her head to the chair next to her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you’re not sick of me, sure,” Yang said. She swerved around a chair and flopped into the one Blake indicated. One leg hooked over the arm and Yang slouched against the other, settling her hands in her lap. She leaned towards Blake, falling into the irresistible gravity she exuded. Blake had her legs tucked up underneath her, a bag of raspberries balancing on the arm of her chair between her and Yang.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yang’s skin prickled with Blake’s undivided attention. She shifted in her seat, throwing her arm over the back of the chair. For weeks now she’d been trying to get Blake to pay attention to her. The smallest traces she was allowed felt like rain in the desert. Now Yang was starting to see what her biology teacher Mrs. Peach meant when she said that a downpour could be disastrous for a desert ecosystem. Her throat was dry no matter how many times she swallowed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you reading this time?” She asked, jerking her chin at the book on the table. It was placed cover down and the spine was facing away from her. “New read?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s for a class,” Blake said. “It’s called </span>
  <em>
    <span>Death of a Salesman</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is it good?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s terrible.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yang frowned, surprised to hear bookish Blake so vehemently against what she was reading. “That sucks ass.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When was the last time you read a good book for class?” Yang thought for a moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think it was third grade,” she said. “Our teacher read us </span>
  <em>
    <span>If You Give a Mouse a Cookie</span>
  </em>
  <span>. And she gave us cookies.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please tell me that wasn’t the last book you read,” Blake said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yang gasped and placed a hand over her heart. “Of course not. What do you take me for, a fucking animal? It was definitely </span>
  <em>
    <span>The Very Hungry Caterpillar</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh no,” Blake groaned. “We can’t be friends if you haven’t read a real book in the last decade.” A grin she couldn’t help spread across Yang’s face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are we friends now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Depends.” Blake popped a raspberry in her mouth. She licked a bit of juice off her finger, tongue barely poking out of her lips as she watched Yang intently. “Are you literate?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe I just haven’t had anyone recommend me anything good recently,” Yang said. The words were tumbling out now, barely letting her think about what she was trying to say.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I think I can be of service. I’m incredibly well-read.” Blake’s small smile had Yang enraptured. Her skin looked so soft. Her voice alone was the only thing that could drag Yang’s attention away from staring at her. The school could be burning and Yang wouldn’t care. “It wouldn’t do any good to recommend a genre you hated. What was the last book you read?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yang stopped, forced herself to think about this one. The actual last book she read was about a third of </span>
  <em>
    <span>The Scarlet Letter</span>
  </em>
  <span> for a class and she hated every word. They were talking about friendship now, but the atmosphere was too charged for her to let it drop by bringing up the least sexy novel she’d ever read. Puritans had a way of ruining the mood like no one else. Yang hoped the way she presented herself would give Blake a hint about her interest, but a lack of subtlety never hurt her in the past.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The last one I read and liked was </span>
  <em>
    <span>The Miseducation of Cameron Post</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” she said, watching carefully for so much as a flicker of a reaction from Blake. “I really connected to the main character. And Chloe Grace Moretz was super hot in the movie.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If there’s a movie out of it, it doesn’t count,” Blake said. Her eyes were narrowed appraisingly and there was a slight waver in her voice. Riding the wave of her success, Yang reached into the plastic bag and grabbed a raspberry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you read it though? The book was very well written with a lot of depth. It was poignant.” She popped the raspberry in her mouth, holding steady eye contact. Blake let out a shaky breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think I have a book you’d like,” she said. “We should do a trade.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sounds like we have a deal then.” Yang grinned. The risk she took was already paying off. She was ready to savor it while it lasted.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>Blake hadn’t lied about her arrangement with Mrs. Greene. After her first week at Beacon, it became quite clear that the lunchroom was not a place she wanted to spend much time in. She wasn’t friendly with the few people she knew from Menagerie or and getting on such terms with anyone at this school was the last thing she wanted. Jaune had been kind enough to invite her to sit with him and his friends, but she turned them down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When she realized he sat with Yang, she wanted to kick herself. Their homeroom banter was a high point in her day, a game she looked forward to while trying to keep her eagerness under wraps.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So when Yang crunched her way into Blake’s library haven, she couldn’t believe her luck. One on one, Yang was different than she was with hoards of people around. She was always genuine, her bubbly, charming exterior was no persona, but Blake had never seen her vulnerable the way she was before their first lunch spent together in the library. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It had her leaping at the chance to invite Yang back. Her presence made it hard to breathe, to think, a sensation that oddly Blake never wanted to fade.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ok, first things first please don’t sue me for water damage on your book,” Yang said, plopping down beside Blake in what she had mentally dubbed ‘Yang’s chair’. It was a few weeks after their first lunch together, and Yang had met her in the library every day since. “I didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>cry</span>
  </em>
  <span> exactly, but the words jumped off the page and punched me in the eyeballs. Little fucks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blake rolled her eyes. “Did you like it?” She asked with more trepidation than she should have. Lending her books was something she rarely did. If anyone else damaged them, she wouldn’t have been so calm. Somehow (because it was Yang) it didn’t bother her much this time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I loved it. Very dark and well written, but also interesting enough to keep a simple pleb like me entertained,” Yang said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you liked it I think that moves you up from pleb status.” Yang paused in pulling out her lunchbox from her backpack.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah? What does it move me up to then?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think you’re at least a court jester now,” Blake said as she suppressed a smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey! That was mean. Just because I like puns doesn’t make me a clown.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That might be exactly how it is.” Yang’s frown did not match the twinkle in her eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think I’d be a daring knight. That would make you the lonely but beautiful princess, helpless but to fall prey to my noble charm,” she said, sweeping her hair over her shoulder and straightening her spine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And does the knight have a favor to show her devotion?” Blake asked, heart leaping in her chest despite her sarcastic tone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Actually, I fucking do.” Yang reached into her lunchbox. “Catch.” Blake fumbled with the yellow package Yang tossed her way. It was impressive she managed to catch it at all with how fried her nerves were.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fruit Gushers?” Blake asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. I grabbed an extra this morning for you.” Blake ducked her head to hide her blush.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” she said, words carrying more weight than gratitude for a mere snack. She hoped Yang heard how much her kindness meant, even if Blake was purposefully being onerous. It was all part of a game Yang seemed delighted to play.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blake gasped as she lifted the flap to tear open the package. “What’s this?” She asked, staring at the scrawling Sharpie written underneath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, yeah. I thought you should have my number,” Yang said. “When I was reading your book I wanted to text you about it, but I realized I couldn’t. I had to fix that, and thought it was a great opportunity to </span>
  <em>
    <span>gush </span>
  </em>
  <span>over it.” She gave an exaggerated wink.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You think you’re so smooth,” Blake said. “What makes you think it’ll get from the wrapper to my phone?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A hunch.” Yang shrugged. She started opening her own Gushers with her teeth, leveling her lilac gaze at Blake. One corner of her mouth ticked up in a crooked grin. Blake didn’t know if she wanted to punch her or kiss her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(She remembered feeling this way once before. Yang was so much like Sun it sent pangs of longing through her. The easy way she slid past Blake’s walls, made a comfortable space for herself inside them. Sun would always be special to her for helping pull her from the darkness, but Yang shed her own light Blake couldn’t help gravitate toward.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not wanting to give Yang the satisfaction, Blake slid the wrapper into her lunchbox. If the number was put in her phone the moment they parted, Yang wouldn’t know until later that night when Blake texted her. She wished she could have drawn out the suspense a little more, held back so as to not be seen as too eager. Yang’s enthusiastic reply mere seconds after she sent the text was enough to persuade her that she made the right choice.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>Even though most of their time spent together was secluded, Blake still gained a reputation as Yang’s friend. People she didn’t know waved at her and approached her with a familiarity that was shocking, considering she didn’t know their names. They knew hers, despite her efforts to be as unapproachable as possible. By the time she got from the front doors to homeroom, more people said hello to her than would have been in her graduating class at Menagerie. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Being a transfer student also gained her some infamy beyond her association with the school’s golden girl. With almost anyone who tried to talk to her, there was a tension far less enjoyable than the one brought on by Yang. Blake could practically see the question burning on their tongues. What was it like to live through the shooting? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It made her furious to have such a shadow hanging over her. At least they had enough manners to refrain from asking. Still, Blake wondered if she would ever be able to shake free. Part of the reason she didn’t want to befriend anyone here was so none of them knew just how close she’d been to the shooting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was almost relieved to see Yang’s unmistakable mane of hair just outside of their homeroom. Her back was turned and Blake lost herself in her curls for a moment, wondering what it would be like to tangle her hands in them. A lofty daydream; Yang hated people touching her hair. Even though it looked so soft and tempting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yang was standing with a knot of her friends, so Blake put her head down to slip into the room without having to acknowledge any of them. As much as she wanted to talk to Yang, it felt weird taking up her attention with all her friends right there. Whenever Blake was around, Yang had a tendency to let everything else fall to the wayside. Blake tried not to read into that too much.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She didn’t hear them do so, but someone must have pointed her out to Yang because suddenly Yang was turning and giving her the biggest grin Blake had ever seen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Blake! Come over here, I need you to do something,” Yang called over the noise in the hallway. She gestured with one arm, her bomber jacket folded up under the other. Almost against her will, Blake allowed herself to be drawn into the group. “What do you think of my shirt?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blake stared appraisingly. From behind, Yang’s hair and backpack mostly covered the monstrosity she was calling a shirt. It was an oversized button-up, half-tucked into her jeans in a way that drew attention to her hips. Blake couldn’t help but stare. That was about the only good thing she could say about the mess of color and pattern. It looked like the carpet of a bowling alley.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s hideous,” she said bluntly. “And I can’t believe you’re pulling it off.” Yang’s smile grew if that was even possible.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“See guys! Blake said she likes it,” she said. “I fucking told you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did she, though?” The tall girl Blake was pretty sure named Pyrrha said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah I think she’s with us on this one,” Yang’s sister said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am,” Blake affirmed, glad to have backup. “You’re about the only person who’d be able to wear it. Did you find it in the 50% off bin from Five Below?” Yang’s smile fell, giving way to a more thoughtful look.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmmm, I guess you’re right,” she said. “You’d probably like it better if it was 100% off.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blake’s vision went dark for a moment as she all but left her body. The line provoked a range of reactions from her friends – from a drawn-out </span>
  <em>
    <span>damnnnnn</span>
  </em>
  <span> from Jaune and a wolf-whistle from Nora to Weiss rolling her eyes practically out of her head and Ruby stuffing her fingers in her ears. Blake ignored them all, too caught up in the smirk on Yang’s face that sent fire coiling in her stomach. Her eyes flicked down Yang’s neck, catching on her collarbones that barely peeked out of the very shirt that caused all of this. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Though she was screaming on the inside, Blake fell back on her reliable deadpan snark as she replied. “Somehow I doubt I’m the first girl you used that line on.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But you’re the only one that holds my heart,” Yang said, pressing her hand to her chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blake rolled her eyes without any venom. “I’ll see you in class.” She turned away, flicking her hair over her shoulder so the ends brushed against Yang’s arm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>damn</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Jaune repeated. Blake could imagine him watching the exchange with wide eyes. She didn’t look back to confirm, though she pricked her ears to catch as much of the conversation she left behind as she could. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve </span>
  <em>
    <span>never</span>
  </em>
  <span> seen that happen to you,” Yang’s sister said. “What’s her deal?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry. That’s just how she says she likes me.” Yang clicked her tongue. “You guys should head to class. See you after school!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blake took the few steps to her seat to collect herself with a few steadying breaths. Yang wasn’t wrong. She </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> like her. A lot. She liked spending time with her, no matter if the air between them was filled with jokes and flirty lines or comfortable silence. As much as she enjoyed the former, the ability to just </span>
  <em>
    <span>be</span>
  </em>
  <span> together wasn’t something she found with just anyone. It wasn’t what she expected out of lively Yang. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Blake’s favorite part about Yang was that she made her feel normal. There was no pity or prying. Just genuine enjoyment of the parts of herself Blake gave. Yang </span>
  <em>
    <span>listened</span>
  </em>
  <span> and responded in kind. Blake was surprised to hear her talk about many of the books she suggested, giving her own take in a truly interested way. The way Yang </span>
  <em>
    <span>watched </span>
  </em>
  <span>her while she talked about her books made her want to die in the best way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yang came to join her a few moments later, grazing her hand across Blake’s shoulder blades as she made her way to her seat. Unconsciously, Blake followed the touch, shifting to face Yang openly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you keep that up they’re going to start betting on when you’re going to break me,” Yang said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Am</span>
  </em>
  <span> I going to break you?” Blake asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe a little.” Yang reached up to absently twirl a strand of her own hair around a finger. “I wouldn’t complain if you did.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re incorrigible.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’d get along well with Weiss.” At the mention of Yang’s friend, Blake froze up. Since Yang started spending so much time with her, Blake had been adamant about her not blowing off her friends all the time. Yang shrugged and said they’d live, but Blake always felt a little guilty she wasn’t up to joining them properly. They were all friendly enough, but they were no Yang. The real, selfish reason was that she wanted Yang all to herself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because we share a vocabulary?” Blake said slowly. Yang shook her head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nah. Because you both fucking love calling me fancy bad words.” Blake rolled her eyes again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you weren’t such a dork, we wouldn’t have to,” she said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I saw you waiting for the bus today,” Yang said, abruptly changing the subject.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I saw you drive past me,” Blake said. Despite living so close to each other, their contact has thus far been strictly at school. Blake sometimes saw Yang drive past while she waited for the bus, always giving a salute while her sister waved enthusiastically.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That kind of shitty. And it’s going to get worse once it gets colder,” Yang said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not that bad.” Yang raised an eyebrow. “I only hate it with all my heart and soul. But it’s not like I have a better option.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I could drive you to school.” A shiver ran down Blake’s spine as she imagined herself in the passenger seat of Yang’s clunker. Obviously it wasn’t realistic with Ruby being with them, but in the daydream she stared at Yang’s hand on the gearshift, itching to reach over and grab it despite how difficult it would be to drive. She looked Yang in the eye, the spark she saw made her think they were on the same page</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t...know,” she said hesitantly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, come on. Ruby isn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> bad. She only stinks sometimes, and she’s almost half as hilarious as I am.” Yang still hadn’t looked away. Blake couldn’t bring herself to be the first.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My parents are pretty protective,” she said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s ok, I’m only driving you for less than fifteen minutes.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blake tilted her head and gave Yang a pointed look. “My mom was a teacher at Menagerie.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, yeah,” Yang said, shaking herself as if she had forgotten there were reasons beyond the standard for her parents to be overprotective. “That’s fair I guess.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. It’s the bus for me until I get my license. And even then, maybe not.” Blake couldn’t imagine her parents letting her drive wherever she wanted without heavy restrictions applied. They weren’t keeping her prisoner, but they weren’t taking their eyes off her, either.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If they met me would they let you? I’ve been told by many that parents fucking love me,” Yang said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course you have.” Blake rolled her eyes. “I can ask. It probably helps that we live in the same neighborhood. Though I don’t think they’re going to appreciate you cursing all the time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shit. I can clean it up, if needed. Text me when they say yes. I know it’s all but impossible for you, but you really have to sell me to them beforehand. Shouldn’t be too difficult, if you can swallow your pride.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ll have to swallow yours if you want them to like you.” Yang grinned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Trust me. I got this. Your parents will be as enamored with me as you are.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blake was going to get permanent eye damage with how much Yang made her roll them. This time, she did it as a cover so Yang couldn’t see just how right she was.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Involves skateboarding Yang, meeting the parents, and shenanigans. Enjoy!!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Later that day, Yang breezed into biology with her mind completely elsewhere. Though it was days away, she was beyond excited to meet Blake’s parents. Hopefully, that meant they would be able to hang outside of school. As of late, Yang had either been with her or thinking about her. The urge to impress was overwhelming, bubbling up with every cheesy line or daredevil move she made. It was getting easier and easier to get Blake to laugh, though she usually hid it behind a hand. More often than not, Blake started reciprocating, too.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Before class even started, Yang knew it was going to be a long one. While she was far from hopeless at biology, it wasn’t her strongest subject. And it was right before lunch. The one obstacle between the next time she saw Blake. She barely even noticed when Pyrrha and Weiss sat down next to her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yang. Yang!” She startled as Weiss waved her hand in front of her face. Pyrrha leaned forward onto her desk to shoot Yang a look of concern from the other side of Weiss. “What is wrong with you? You’ve been in space for weeks now. Is everything ok?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shit, I’m sorry,” she said. A pang of guilt turned over her stomach. She had been neglecting her friends recently. It should have been fine; she wasn’t the </span>
  <em>
    <span>only</span>
  </em>
  <span> thing keeping their group together. Still, it wasn’t cool to be spaced out so much that Weiss had to call her name multiple times to get her attention when the subject of it wasn’t even in the room.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s alright,” Pyrrha said. “We’re starting to miss you, is all.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m still around,” Yang said, shifting uncomfortably in her seat. “Last weekend Ruby and I went out to the movies with y’all. I </span>
  <em>
    <span>drove</span>
  </em>
  <span> half of you there.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Like you could tell us what it was about. You disappeared into the bathroom to text Blake for seventy percent of it.” Yang’s cheeks flamed. Weiss smirked as Yang all but confirmed her wild accusation.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is it a crime to have a friend outside of you guys?” She was careful to keep her tone light, shove down any defensiveness she felt. Weiss wasn’t challenging her outright. She was only trying to keep her on track.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No. You’ve just been spending a lot of time with her, that’s all.” Pyrrha gave her a knowing look. In some ways, they were quite alike. Neither of them was good at hiding their crushes and could spot each other’s from a mile away. Yang remembered freshman year when Pyrrha stared dreamily at Jaune every chance she got, thinking she was subtle. Both of them had all the subtlety of a wrecking ball.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yang shrugged. “She’s cool. I like the time we spend together.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t worry, I trust you.” Pyrrha stretched her long legs out under the table, crossing her ankles. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I did hear some weird things about her,” Weiss said, shattering Yang’s calm. She opened her binder like she hadn’t just dropped a bomb on the conversation. Yang waited in agonizing suspense.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uhh, you’re just going to leave it at that?” She asked, unable to stand Weiss’s nonchalance any longer. Her shoulders were tense and she forced herself to relax. With the taut rubber band state of the school’s atmosphere, she’d knotted up her back with worry. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s nothing worth telling, but at the same time interesting to listen to. Those kinds of rumors don’t start for no reason,” Weiss said. “Just be careful. I don’t want you to get hurt if you’re serious about this.” The tension was back, winding her up in a different way this time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh, dude what are you even talking about?” Yang scoffed, trying to sound nonchalant. She shriveled inside, hearing herself way overdo it. She didn’t want to be ashamed of her feelings, but being vulnerable sucked ass.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Seriously, Yang? It’s obvious you really like her,” Pyrrha said. Oh. So it was out, then. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I thought we had an agreement not to acknowledge each other’s lack of a poker face when it came to their crushes,” Yang said, lowering her voice.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, it’s only a crush?” Pyrrha blinked, genuinely surprised. “I was under the impression you two were dating but keeping it on the down-low.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please, the school would have a field day with that. Everyone’s already obsessed with them and they aren’t even together,” Weiss said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I heard there’s a betting pool going on. When they’re going to reveal themselves or not.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can you imagine how insufferable Yang would become if they actually dated?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sitting right here,” Yang said, grinding her teeth. Pyrrha had the decency to look bashful, but Weiss only raised one eyebrow into her perfected expression of haughtiness.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are we wrong?” She asked. Yang slouched in her chair, knowing that answering would only dig her deeper into trouble. “That’s what I thought.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ok, but being serious for a second,” Yang said. “If I did, you know, hypothetically, shoot my shot, do you think she’d be into it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re the only one she spends any time with. Jaune literally has a class with her and he only learned her last name this week,” Weiss said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That might reflect more on Jaune than Blake,” Pyrrha remarked. She and Weiss tilted their heads simultaneously as they considered it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“As much as I’m glad you’ve set your sights on roasting Jaune instead of me, can you fucking help me out a little here?” Yang grumbled. Though they didn’t team up often, Weiss and Pyrrha were a force to be reckoned with when they did.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Weiss has a point. You know her best. Do you think she’d reciprocate?” Pyrrha asked gently.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please, did you see her short circuit this morning when Yang was flirting with her? That’s the only answer I need.” Weiss folded her hands in front of her on the desk, sitting up even straighter than she had before. With her chin raised, she was clearly signaling the end of the discussion. “Though you might not want to lay it on as thick if you want to have a functioning girlfriend.” Yang’s forehead slammed to her desk and she threw her arms over her head while Pyrrha nearly laughed herself out of her chair.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>Blake spun her phone nervously in her hands as she forced herself to sit on her bed rather than pace her room. She constantly checked the screen, waiting for it to light up with a text from Yang. With sweaty hands, she unlocked her phone to re-read Yang’s last text for the hundredth time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>allz gud. gimme 5 minz b rite their</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>How that girl was in AP English, Blake had no idea. Holding a conversation with her over text should have been a full-time career, but it was better than agonized waiting. Days after suggesting it, Yang would finally introduce herself to Blake’s parents. Blake didn’t understand why she was so nervous. They’d been texting non stop since they left school earlier today in anticipation of Yang coming over in the afternoon. As burdensome having to translate her texts into English was, talking to Yang was the one thing that calmed her nerves. They were back in full force as Yang put away her phone in order to make her way over.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Blake perked up when she heard the clatter of plastic on concrete coming from outside. Muffled as it was, she wasn’t able to quite tell what caused it. She dashed to the window, pulling aside her curtain to look down the street.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her eyes slammed shut and she sighed in defeat as she spotted what was making the racket. Letting the curtain fall back into place, she ran downstairs to the front door. She opened it as Yang hopped the curb in front of her house, landing on the sidewalk casually as though she hadn’t just launched her skateboard nearly a foot in the air. Blake struggled to ignore the heat that ignited in her stomach watching her swerve around on the sidewalk. She looked up and beamed when she saw Blake in the doorway.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey! How’d the “hype me up to your parents” campaign go?” Yang asked. Blake leaned against the doorframe, letting her eyes trail up and down Yang. There was certainly a lot to take in.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you seriously wearing a dress?” She pressed her lips together to stifle a laugh. Yang looked down her floral patterned dress and black tights as she stepped off her skateboard.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I wanted to make a good impression!” She stomped on the back of her board, sending it up to catch in one hand. In the other, she held a bouquet of flowers that matched her outfit. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Right. If you really wanted to dress up, though, I would have left off the bomber jacket. And worn something other than Converse. You’re such a stereotype,” she said, unable to keep the fondness out of her voice.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think it completes the look.” Yang leaned her head to the side and rubbed her cheek against the fuzzy collar. It was not the first time Blake had seen the habit. That jacket was one of Yang’s favorites, and it had the wear to prove it. The leather was cracked and the elbows were worn. It was far too big on her. Yang looked amazing in it. Like she did in everything. “I also brought flowers.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are those lilies?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah. Aren’t they pretty?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They are.” Blake stepped off her porch, meeting Yang halfway down the walk. Her hands twitched at her sides, wanting to reach out and grab Yang by the lapels of her jacket, to slide around her waist. She fought off the urge by lacing them together behind her own back. “My mom is super allergic.” Yang’s eyes widened.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nevermind!” She said. She drew her arm back and launched the flowers toward the hedge marking the border of Blake’s yard. They rustled as they flew through the air, landing well on the other side in her neighbor’s yard. “I only brought my sunny personality.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re hopeless,” Blake said, hiding a laugh behind her hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But you like me anyway. Alright, let me into your house so I can charm the pants off your parents.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please don’t let that be literal.” Blake opened the door for them. “You can leave your board on the porch. My parents probably don’t want it in the house. Too dangerous.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wow, you are such an only child. My dad left paint thinner in the pantry for two years straight because he forgot about it after renovating our kitchen.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And you drank it? That explains a lot.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey! I didn’t drink much,” Yang giggled. She bumped her elbow into Blake’s side. Since her hands were free, they automatically found their way into her pockets. “Ruby’s the one who got screwy in the head because of it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If we go into the kitchen right now, are you going to have a bad flashback?” Blake asked, already leading the way into the room.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll have you know I’m a genius in the kitchen. I do probably 80% of the cooking in our house.” She followed Blake’s lead and settled on a barstool, posture surprisingly straight. She didn’t sprawl across the counter the way she did every other time she sat. It gave Blake hope this meeting wouldn’t be a complete disaster, that Yang at least had some manners.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your poor family,” Blake murmured. She was distracted from their banter, however, by how still the house was. Her father was in no way a quiet man. Just this morning she heard him bumping around in the kitchen from all the way upstairs. Her mom was the same way, constant humming pinpointing her position at all times. So why couldn’t she hear either of them right now?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The basement door slammed open and Blake nearly fell off her barstool. Only Yang’s hand steadying her elbow kept her upright. Blake’s heart jumped to the moon, and Yang looked similarly rattled. They both spun to see what caused the ruckus.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>An enormous stack of cardboard boxes emerged from the basement. Blake sagged against the counter in relief as she saw her father’s large hands holding them. They were about all she could see of him. He grunted as he maneuvered through the doorway, his tower of boxes brushing the ceiling of the kitchen as he entered it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Careful, dear! Don’t scuff the paint!” Kali called from the basement.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s alright,” Ghira said. His rumbling voice barely held any signs of strain despite his burden. “Where do these go again? Porch?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Family room.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Got it.” He turned to pass through the kitchen and finally caught sight of Blake and Yang around the boxes. His eyes narrowed. Blake heard Yang gulp and she didn’t blame her. Her father was a large, intimidating man. “Blake, who’s this?” He asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This is Yang,” she said. “She lives in the neighborhood and was coming over to meet you today, remember? We go to school together.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And you invited her in without telling us?” Blake fought the urge to roll her eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ve known she was coming since Wednesday. Don’t tell me this was a surprise.” Ghira looked nervously over his shoulder, threatening demeanor evaporating.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t tell your mother I forgot. Let me put these down and I’ll be right back.” He disappeared into the next room.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What was all that?” Yang asked when he was gone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Honestly, no idea,” Blake said. “Hey, Dad. What are you doing?” Ghira flexed his fingers as he came back into the kitchen. Blake could see the impressions in his skin from the weight of the boxes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Bringing up Halloween decorations, of course,” he said without a hint of shame.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course,” Blake drawled. “I thought today was supposed to be about you interrogating my friend.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, I already brought the first boxes up. Your mother won’t like it if we have to stop now.” He gave Yang a once over. “We can always multitask. What are you good at?” Blake saw his bewildered expression as he tried to think of a job that would fit Yang. For anyone who didn’t already know her, the bomber jacket/dress combination made her difficult to pin down.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m pretty strong, sir,” Yang said. “If there are any more boxes, I can help you bring them up.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright. Yang, was it? Glad to have someone around here who’s willing to do the heavy lifting.” He gave Blake a pointed look. It didn’t have any venom in it. Blake leaned one elbow against the counter and pretended to examine her nails. She wasn’t ashamed that she and Kali always made Ghira bring up and put away the boxes of decorations. He was too easy to take advantage of.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Someone has to make sure there’s a modicum of organization,” she said. “Otherwise nothing would get done.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well then, get your butt downstairs and get organizing, young lady.” A smile cracked through his veneer and he thunked down the stairs. Blake and Yang shared a look.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh, I know you didn’t exactly plan to carry a bunch of boxes around today,” Blake said, nodding at Yang’s dress.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There is a reason I wore tights. You can’t exactly skate without something underneath.” She hopped off her barstool. Blake short-circuited thinking of just that. She wondered just how much of her skin was freckled like her face and arms. “This isn’t some weird way of you getting me into your basement so you can murder me, is it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just stay on my parent’s good side. My dad looks like the scary one, but it’s my mom you should watch out for,” Blake said, struggling to control her voice so as not to give away her thoughts.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She led Yang downstairs to the unfinished basement they used mostly for storage. It was lined with shelves made from rough, sturdy wood she and Ghira made years ago. Well, Ghira did most of the work. Blake stood by and handed him tools as he requested them. Kali was at the far end, brushing dust off of a plastic tub so she could read the label. She looked up at the racket they made coming down the stairs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your friend has perfect timing, Blake. She can help us put up our Halloween decorations,” she said. She pulled the box off the shelf and set it on the floor next to several others.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, so you didn’t forget,” Blake said. “You just wanted extra labor?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s right!” Kali said, dusting off her hands. Blake held back a groan. She should have expected her to pull something like this</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Where should I start, Mrs. Belladonna?” Yang asked, the epitome of a golden child. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, I like this one. Why didn’t you invite her over sooner, Blake?” Kali asked. Blake rolled her eyes. Yang was really laying it on thick, but somehow it was working for her. “You can start by bringing these boxes to the porch, dear. Be careful, they’re heavy.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No worries,” Yang said, stacking two on top of each other. She lifted them with ease. Blake wished her jacket wasn’t covering her arms. She wouldn’t have minded a view of them right now. “Blake, will you stack another one on top of these?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Now you’re just showing off,” Blake said. She obeyed anyway and tried to be subtle as she stared after Yang going up the stairs. It was too opportune an angle to miss. That girl had no right to be so hot.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With an extra set of hands, bringing out the Halloween decorations went much faster than it usually did. They truly had an inordinate amount of decorations to cover their house inside and out. It took days to put up and tear down, and for a few glorious weeks, their house was like living in The Addams Family Mansion. Blake loved it, but bringing out the decorations wasn’t how she was expecting this meeting to go.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I hope you don’t mind,” Blake said when she got a moment alone with Yang as they brought the last of the outdoor boxes to the porch.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This is way better than standing around awkwardly trying to make conversation,” Yang said. “I don’t mind at all. In fact, wait until we come to pick you up and Ruby sees the house. She’s going to lose her freaking mind.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Who’s Ruby?” Kali asked, finally happy enough with where the boxes of indoor decorations ended up to come outside. They always decorated the outside first, as it took the most work.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My younger sister, ma’am,” Yang said. She brightened the way she always did when she talked about Ruby. It was hard not to like the girl with the way Yang went on about her. “She loves Halloween almost as much as you all do. It’s her birthday, so it’s double the excitement for her.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What a fun coincidence,” Kali said. “This has always been a family tradition for us. Halloween is a great time of year.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“One we shouldn’t delay any longer!” Ghira said. “It’s not Halloween until the decorations are set up. Ready to divide and conquer?” He rubbed his hands together while surveying the empty yard, a childish gleam in his eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright. Ghira, you’re on tombstone duty. Blake, wall of skeletons. Yang, you’re with me on the inflatables,” Kali gave out orders like a general. “Once all that’s done, we can do cobwebs and lights. Let’s go, team!” She clapped her hands together before grabbing Yang by the front of her jacket. She dragged her to the center of the yard. Yang gave Blake a helpless look over her shoulder while Blake shook with silent laughter.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know where the ladder is, right kid?” Ghira asked. Blake nodded and went off to the shed in the backyard.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When she returned, Yang was tangled in miles of plastic sheeting. Blake could only tell where she was by the lump in the deflated, 12-foot tall Frankenstein. Kali was coaching her through patiently, though she seemed on the verge of laughter. If Blake had any worries about Yang winning over her parents, they disappeared right then. Yang was doing better than she could have hoped without having to sacrifice her personality to do it. Though this was probably the longest time Blake had spent with Yang without hearing her swear once. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As she positioned skeletons on the wall, arranging them to appear as though they were scaling the house, she kept glancing down into the front yard. She wasn’t about to abandon Yang completely. After a brutal fight with it, Yang managed to untangle herself from the inflatable and held the hose to the air valve while Kali operated the pump. The racket made it impossible to eavesdrop in on any conversation. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Blake knew her mom’s tricks well enough to realize sent her to do the skeleton wall because it was the farthest away. It would give her the opportunity to interrogate Yang. Kali was smart like that, and since she lost her job when Menagerie closed she had far too much time on her hands to scheme things up. Blake frowned at the thought and turned her attention to finishing her job. Maybe she should save Yang before Kali scared her away forever.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Belladonnas had done this so many times their system was more than efficient. Yang integrated herself seamlessly, allowing herself to be tossed around between Kali and Ghira to help with various smaller projects. She didn’t complain once, kept up her smile and good cheer the entire time even as she was assigned the most awkward or unwanted jobs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think we deserve a break,” Ghira announced, looking over the now spookified yard. They still had yet to hook up the lights and fog machine, but that would come closer to Halloween so the equipment wasn’t ruined by the weather. “Who wants apple cider?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Looking at the work we did, we all deserve it,” Kali said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m on it.” Ghira kissed her on the cheek before disappearing into the house. Blake pretended to gag at them when only Yang was looking. Yang’s snort was expertly disguised as a cough.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>While Ghira was retrieving the cider, Blake looked over their handiwork. Her arms ached from putting up skeletons and stringing cobwebs over the bushes. An army of Halloween themed inflatables towered over the lawn while tombstones and zombie parts lined the walkway up to the door. The motion-activated mummy at the door already scared Yang about four times, to Blake’s great amusement. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Blake and Kali both sat on the steps of the porch, Yang joining them cautiously so as to not activate the mummy. She flinched again as it sprang to life when Ghira came back outside. Blake saw her bite her lip so hard there were teeth marks when she released it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Come on, it has to startle you too,” she said, leaning against Blake so their shoulders were pressed together.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ve lived with it for years. It has no power over me.” She was careful not to let Yang spill any of her cider.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your poor UPS driver.” Yang shook her head. She accepted a glass from Ghira’s tray. “Thank you, sir.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re welcome.” He set the empty tray on the porch and sat with the most dadlike groan. “You’re a very polite young lady, Yang.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you, sir. My mom raised me and my sister right,” Yang said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Blake expected her smile to widen the way it always did when she spoke of her family. She hadn’t heard much about Yang’s mom and was curious to learn about her the same way Yang talked about Ruby and her dad.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>To her complete surprise, Yang lowered her gaze and ran her thumb around the rim of her glass. Her shoulders slumped and she fell quiet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’d say she did a fine job,” Kali said, not noticing Yang’s sudden gloom. To Blake, it was as obvious as a cloud blocking the sun. “You’re more than welcome over here if you want to help us finish decorating.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mom, please,” Blake said. “You already got almost two hours of work out of her. Don’t pressure her.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s alright. I’d be happy to help any time you need,” Yang said. She looked up and the smile was back on her face, though it wasn’t as beaming as before. Hiding the gesture between their bodies, Blake ran her knuckles along Yang’s shin. Yang’s eyes flicked to her briefly, shining with gratitude. Blake might not have known what was wrong, but she knew how to tell Yang she was there for her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You said you live in the neighborhood, yes?” Ghira asked, oblivious to their private exchange.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s right. We’re on Patch Street. I see Blake at the bus stop all the time before school.” Ghira tugged on his beard thoughtfully.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Blake mentioned you offered to drive her to school,” he said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, sir. It wouldn’t be any trouble. Besides, we’re friends.” Yang’s fingers brushed against the inside of Blake’s forearm, using Blake’s own tactic against her. Goosebumps prickled up Blake’s arm and she took a quick drink of cider to hide any strange expression that no doubt showed on her face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well now that we’ve met you, I don’t think there should be any problem with that,” Kali said. Blake heaved a sigh of relief. Watching Yang suffer through the worst jobs of decorating was plenty entertaining, but it wasn’t the reason she came over.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Cool. Does that mean she can come upstairs to help me decorate my room?” Blake asked. Her parents chuckled.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes. I think we’ve put you through enough,” Kali said. “Have fun, girls. It was nice to meet you, Yang.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You as well,” Yang said as Blake dragged her into the house.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>The door shut behind them, cutting off the mechanical groaning of the mummy. Yang forced down a shiver, looking at Blake instead. She’d tucked one side of her dark hair behind her ear. Yang wondered if she still felt the chills from when they were pressed against each other.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So I get to see your room, huh?” Yang asked, wiggling her eyebrows. She could play it cool, see where this went.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ugh, you suck,” Blake grumbled. Her cheeks flamed adorably, Yang’s reward for pushing her. Despite how she came across, her mind was in the exact same place as Yang’s. “Grab that box in the hall, would you?” She stomped her way up the stairs, not stopping to see if Yang obeyed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If it gets me into your room, absolutely!” Yang easily lifted the box labeled </span>
  <em>
    <span>Blake, Halloween</span>
  </em>
  <span> in loopy cursive writing. It was relatively light, compared to the boxes she carried earlier.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It amazes me that I actually like you,” Blake said. She paused on the landing, waiting for Yang to reach her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It amazes me too. I’ve barely had to try at all. Thanks,” she said as Blake let her into the room first. For all her bravado, Yang’s stomach was a pit of nerves. “Where do you want this?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Floor is fine.” Yang set the box where Blake indicated before straightening up to get a better look at the room. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The walls were painted a light purple and the curtains covering the window across from the door were black. A twin bed with an antique frame was pushed against one wall, and there was a collage of printed photos posted above it. Yang wandered over to them to get a better look. Most of them pictured Blake with her parents or other friends, though there were a few empty spaces where the paint was less faded. Yang decided not to ask and turned to examine the desk and the bookshelves on the other side of the room.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You have even more books than I imagined.” It felt like a library in the best way. Perhaps it was because they got to know each other surrounded by books, but that was the way Yang always pictured Blake being the most comfortable.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The door clicked shut, something Yang was sure Blake’s protective parents would frown about.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Resigned to imagining my room, huh?” Blake asked. The smirk on her face could have gotten Yang to agree to anything. “That’s just sad.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But in an endearing way, yeah? It means I was thinking about you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nice recovery,” Blake said. She went to the windows and pulled back the curtains to let in some light. “Hey, can I ask you something?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How am I such a perfect parent pleaser? You have to admit, that went fucking excellent.” Yang grinned. Blake didn’t reciprocate, fiddling with the curtains instead.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why don’t you ever talk about your mom? You got pretty quiet when you mentioned her earlier.” Yang frowned at the unexpected question. She turned back to the wall of pictures, noticing the corner of one that was peeling off. She ground her thumb into it to press it back against the wall.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s not...a happy subject,” she began. “She died a few years ago.” She heard Blake’s intake of breath.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yang, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to step where you didn’t want me,” Blake said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s ok,” Yang turned from the wall and put her hands in her jacket pockets. The jacket she could still convince herself smelled like Summer. “I’ve processed it, mostly. It still makes me sad, though.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course it should. She was your mom. I can hardly imagine what that must have been like.” For once, all the bite was gone from Blake’s voice.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It was pretty rough. Dad took it hard and Ruby was barely past toddlerhood. I had to step up a lot.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They were lucky to have you.” Blake moved a few steps closer. Yang’s shoulders rolled back with the compliment.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, they were. It was kind of complicated though, navigating my feelings about it. She was my mom, no question about it. She raised me. I was as much her kid as Ruby.” Her nails bit into her palms. Talking about Summer was sad, but Yang had processed those feelings long ago. Her feelings about the </span>
  <em>
    <span>other</span>
  </em>
  <span> were still raw, and she suspected they would be for a long time. “She wasn’t my birth mom. That was Raven, who left before I could remember her. So my issues are...kind of heavy in that area.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Blake clasped her hands in front of her and Yang had to look away. She knew her issues were a lot and that they barely knew each other. It was a heavy topic to bring up to someone she met so recently. The longer Blake’s silence stretched, the more Yang’s panic grew. Tears welled in her eyes. She couldn’t bear it if she drove her away, made herself seem too broken to be worth the time. She suppressed a hiccup. Somehow, losing Blake seemed even worse than any of her issues with Raven.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She heard rather than saw Blake move forward again. Gentle hands reached out to brush Yang’s hair out of the way from where it fell into her face when she lowered her gaze. Blake cupped her jaw and slowly raised her chin a fraction. Yang barely understood what was happening when Blake pulled her forward and pressed their lips together.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her eyes slid closed as Blake kissed her hurt away. She stood frozen, unable to move a single inch of her body except to reciprocate the kiss. Blake fit against her perfectly, from the tilt of her head, her hands on either side of her face, her lower lip between Yang’s. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When she pulled away, Yang didn’t open her eyes immediately. She was lost in the aftermath, lips parted slightly. Slowly, she opened her eyes. They were dryer than she expected. Meeting Blake’s impossibly tender gaze was almost enough to bring tears back. She couldn’t do anything but stand dumbly as Blake’s hands fell from her face. They rested on her shoulders instead.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” Blake said. “That wasn’t the most appropriate. I just hated seeing you so unhappy.” Her hands started to draw away as Yang continued to be unresponsive. Yang immediately reached up to grab Blake’s wrists. Unable to summon any words, Yang ducked down to kiss her back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s alright,” she said, keeping the kiss brief. “You’ve definitely taken my mind off things.” Blake laughed silently, pushing air through her nose.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You had me worried there for a second,” she said. Yang grinned, her lips still tingling from their kiss.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can I make it up to you?” She let go of one of Blake’s wrists to put her hand around her waist. Blake used the freedom to tap her chin as if deliberating.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t know. You have a lot to make up for, scaring me like that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How about I kiss you again and we call it even?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Blake didn’t respond with words. Yang couldn’t find it in her to be upset about it.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>WARNING AHEAD OF TIME PLEASE READ.</p>
<p>This chapter discusses the menagerie shooting, it's about Blake and Ilia commiserating together. If you don't want to read that, you can skip to the page break, but just know that it's coming.</p>
<p>Now that you've read the warning, please enjoy this chapter!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Ready to go, Blake?” Ghira called from down the stairs. Blake shoved her phone into her pocket and grabbed her jacket from the back of her desk chair. She stuffed her arms in the sleeves as she came downstairs. Ghira was whistling and spinning his keys around one finger while fake spiderwebs brushed the top of his head. “We might have overdone it this year.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t let mom hear you say that,” Blake said. “She might divorce you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How could you joke about something like that?” Ghira asked in mock offense, holding open the door for Blake. “If she hasn’t tried to get rid of me yet, I think she’s stuck with me.” He winked at Kali who was sitting on the porch. The batteries in the motion-activated mummy died only a few hours after they put it up. She was in the process of taking the whole thing apart to replace them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Didn’t I ask you to replace the batteries last year?” She asked. “This has to be grounds for divorce.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“In twenty years I must have done worse.” Ghira tugged at his beard as if trying to think of an example.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dad! Stay on task.” Blake grabbed his wrist and tugged. If her parents started up their weird flirting, they might waste one of the rare afternoons of freedom they granted her. She hadn’t seen Ilia in weeks and was itching to catch up with her old friend. “You’re driving me to Ilia’s, remember?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah, right. One of my many important jobs around here. Blake’s personal chauffeur.” He swept toward the car, clicking on the remote start. “So long, darling! Don’t submit any legal paperwork before I return!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Does that include all of our tax forms I do every year?” Kali called.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s October, nice try.” When Blake gagged, she was only half-joking.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If you let me get my license you wouldn’t have to drive me everywhere,” She said, sliding into the passenger’s seat. “Just saying.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Put on your seatbelt,” Ghira said, leaving no room for argument.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Blake leaned her head against the window as they drove. She put only the bare minimum effort toward conversation with Ghira. Since Yang left yesterday, the only thing Blake could focus on was the image of her skating away down the street. She resisted the urge to brush her fingers over her lips, still feeling the ghost of Yang’s breath on them. Her parents were slowly starting to let her back out into the world after the shooting, and the possibilities that involved Yang as that happened made Blake’s heart stutter.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Make sure you’re home for dinner,” Ghira said as they pulled up in front of Ilia’s house. Blake shook herself out of her own head. It wouldn’t do to waste the afternoon in a daze when she’d been dying to see Ilia for weeks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks, Dad,” she said. “See you tonight.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The front door to Ilia’s house was unlocked. Blake had no qualms about walking right in. She’d known Ilia since they’d been in diapers. Their parents were friends, so even though Ilia had also been close to the events surrounding the shooting she was in the trusted circle. Blake’s parents were protective, not cruel. They wouldn’t keep her from her oldest friend. Their busy schedules did that just fine.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ilia?” Blake called, peering into the quiet house. Her parents were both workaholics, so it was rare to find both of them at home. The house was so quiet Blake had a hard time imagining anyone was here. “You better be home. I’m not wasting my Saturday afternoon waiting around for you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I wouldn’t waste my Saturday making you wait.” Blake turned to find Ilia leaning against the wall next to the stairs. She grinned and pushed herself upright. Blake felt her own expression softening as she grabbed Ilia and pulled her into a tight hug. They fit together with the ease of familiarity. Blake’s chin rested on Ilia’s shoulder while Ilia’s arms came around her back. For a moment, it was like stepping into the past where nothing had changed and they were still innocent, best friends who had never gone through anything traumatic.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why does it feel like it’s been forever?” She asked as Ilia drew back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Because it </span>
  <em>
    <span>has</span>
  </em>
  <span> been forever.” Ilia turned and led Blake further into the house. “I have so much to catch you up on. Texting doesn’t live up to sitting in class together, ignoring everyone else at school.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know what you mean,” Blake said, thoughts immediately flicking to her homeroom. She forced herself back to the present, navigating the rickety stairs to Ilia’s basement room carefully. They hadn’t seen each other in person since the hospital. Therapy had been great and all, but she’d been craving the unique camaraderie only Ilia could share. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How’s Beacon treating you?” Ilia asked, throwing herself onto her bed. She barely left any room for Blake to crawl over and join her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fine. I miss everyone,” she said. A shadow drifted over Ilia, plain to see on her face like all her emotions were.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know what you mean. Pretty much everyone is at Shade except for you and...well, you know,” she said. “It’s kind of awful. Everyone’s just trying to get back to normal, but how can we when everything has changed?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah.” Blake drew her knees up to her chest and leaned against the wall. “Did your parents let you watch the profile they did of...Adam?” She forced herself to say his name. The mood was already ruined for the sake of healing. The local news station made an hour-long investigation into the Menagerie shooting. It was too big an event for them not to, but Blake thought it was tinged with disrespect.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They did, but only at the last minute when I begged them. You?” Blake shook her head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My parents barely let me out of the house. They wouldn’t expose me to something that could break me so easily.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They mentioned you on it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” Blake’s spine stiffened and her joints locked. Her mind was already leaping ten steps ahead. She’d worked so hard to distance herself from Adam, to move on before he ever touched a gun. It couldn’t all be ruined now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not by name,” Ilia said quickly. “They definitely focused on Adam and how a bad breakup sent him over the edge.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It was way more than that,” Blake growled. “Adam was never completely stable.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He wasn’t always a school shooter, either,” Ilia pointed out. Blake slumped as she said that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, he wasn’t.” There was a time that hanging out with Ilia meant being with Adam, too. He was a grade older than them, and Blake was always flattered when he made time for their games. He always seemed truly invested in their friendship. It was why Blake dated him for so long. He had a way of making her feel like the center of the universe.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’d be lying if I said he was a good person, though,” Blake said. Ilia exhaled sharply, blowing a strand of hair out of her face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, he was a piece of shit. Especially at the end. We all had stuff to be angry about. He was just a privileged white boy who didn’t have any outlet when the object of his obsession refused his advances.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That sounds like therapy talk.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, I’m intelligent to come up with that on my own! Well, the first bit, at least.” She paused, examining Blake as if trying to decide how much she was able to push her. “Sun was asking how you were. I told him I hadn’t seen you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(“I think that since your ex shot me that’s a pretty clear sign,” he said, looking thin and pale against the off white sheets of his hospital bed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Blake hadn’t been able to meet his eye. A pang of guilt soured Blake’s stomach. Sun may have been a rebound while they dated, but she genuinely cared about his well being. Part of the reason she hadn’t objected harder when her parents decided to send her to Beacon was that she didn’t know how she could face him and everyone else who Adam hurt. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t worry, it wasn’t your fault. We were headed for this long before the shooting.” He reached out with his good hand to take hers. His right arm was immobilized in a sling to protect his shoulder and the bullet wound in it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can’t help but feel guilty,” Blake said. Her hands shook, feeling too clammy against Sun’s skin. “I could have handled things so much better–”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Listen,” Sun interrupted. “Did you pull the trigger? No. You stood up to him. Bought everyone time until the police got there. It was Adam’s choices that brought him to where he was. Nothing to do with you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You were always too good for me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nah. You’re too good for yourself.”)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How’s he doing?” Blake asked, shaking herself back to the present. Ilia rolled her eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think he’s had more detention for breaking the dress code than anyone in the history of that school. Once people found out who he was, he started wearing the </span>
  <em>
    <span>sluttiest</span>
  </em>
  <span> tank tops he could find to show off his scar. He’s basically a celebrity.” Blake bit back a laugh.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sure he enjoys that plenty. He was always a show-off.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He’d probably appreciate a text. I know he’s lonely,” Ilia said, trying to sound casual. Blake gave her a severe look.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re not getting back together. Our breakup was mutual.” Ilia held up her hands in a peacemaking gesture.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ok, ok! I’m just curious,” she said. “He was always going to be just a rebound anyway. I still thought he was good for you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks for understanding,” Blake said softly. Ilia had always been good at that. They’d had their spats, but they were friends after so long because they were able to fight through them. Though Adam was an extremely rough patch, Blake was eternally grateful they were able to move past the damage he caused. It would be much lonelier without Ilia right now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So what about Beacon? Anyone catching your eye there?” Ilia waggled her eyebrows.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No one worth talking about. I’m more interested in </span>
  <em>
    <span>your</span>
  </em>
  <span> expanded dating pool,” Blake said, picking her words carefully. That should have been enough to throw Ilia off her trail. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ilia’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “But there is someone, yes?” Blake bit the inside of her lip. Ilia completely ignored her attempt at deflection.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What? No! And even if there was, it would be way too soon.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, this is way more interesting than anything I have going on right now.” Ilia shot up onto her knees, bouncing slightly on her mattress. “Is it that girl who keeps showing up in your Snapchat stories? Have you finally decided to join me on the dark side and give in to your sapphic inclinations?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What girl?” Blake’s cheeks flamed. She’d made a pointed effort not to include Yang in any of her pictures, afraid of moving too fast. There were times where she was careless, though. A fringe of hair here, a converse there. On top of being an incredible detective, Ilia was no idiot. She knew Blake better than anyone. “And she doesn’t show up </span>
  <em>
    <span>all </span>
  </em>
  <span>the time, you stalker.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I knew it,” Ilia said. “What’s her name? Is she our age? Come on, give me </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re just friends,” Blake mumbled. Ilia raised an eyebrow before whipping out her phone. “What are you doing?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Looking her up.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t even have a name,” Blake protested. “Are you going to go through the profiles of every girl at Beacon just to track down someone you’re convinced I’m interested in?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So you are interested!” Ilia smirked without looking up from her phone. “And I don’t have to go that far. Let’s see, recent followers on your Instagram.” Blake lunged for her phone. Ilia planted a foot in her chest, keeping her at a distance while she flailed helplessly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ilia, leave it. Please don’t embarrass me!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not going to embarrass you. I promise not to like any of her pictures. Also, I found her. That was too easy. She’s the only person to follow you since you started at Beacon.” Ilia gave her a shove and Blake flopped back onto the bed, defeated. “Wow, she is hot </span>
  <em>
    <span>and</span>
  </em>
  <span> gay. Good going!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re just looking at pictures of her,” Blake mumbled in protest. “Your gaydar isn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> good.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No girl wears that many snapbacks and tank tops if they aren’t gay,” Ilia said, scrolling through Yang’s Instagram. “Thank god for public profiles. If you don’t tap that, can you tell her about me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I hate you so much right now,” Blake said, slouching into herself. Ilia finally looked up from her phone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh. I see. You </span>
  <em>
    <span>like </span>
  </em>
  <span>her like her. This isn’t just a passing interest.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What? No!” Blake cried. “We just spend a lot of time together. Don’t be gross.” Images of what Yang looked like when she was thoroughly kissed flashed in Blake’s head. She pushed them away in annoyance. Now was not the time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The lady doth protest too much,” Ilia said teasingly. Blake raised an eyebrow. “Don’t give me that look. We’re reading Hamlet.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I didn’t know you could read.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ouch. Hurtful.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you want me to list all the essays of mine you copied?” Ilia twisted onto her stomach, resting her chin in one palm.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ok, fine, we all know I’m an underachiever. Stop changing the subject.” There was a dangerous gleam in her eyes. “What is it about her that you like? I bet it’s her boobs. She has very nice boobs. You’re definitely a boob girl; it’s why you never loved me.” Her free hand went to her own flat chest subconsciously. Blake rolled her eyes</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know you’re a lesbian and all, but you just said boobs way too many times,” she said, desperately trying to project a veneer of calm. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ever since Yang came up, Blake’s heart rate had been far too high to be healthy in the long term. Ilia’s teasing was lighthearted, but it struck a button Blake didn’t know existed. Or at the very least, had been frantically trying not to acknowledge.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No such thing! One of the privileges granted to me by my gay card is permission to say boobs as much as I want.” Ilia sobered up suddenly. “But seriously. If you like this girl, what’s stopping you from pursuing her?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My parents, for one,” Blake said. “They’ll never let me date so soon after Adam. They didn’t even officially know about Sun.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can’t you keep it on the down-low? I know that’s not ideal…” Blake chuckled.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You have no idea how poorly that would work. Yang has never been down-low in her life,” she said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And you’re a fortress of secrets. I’m sure it will balance out.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, well, you’ll have to wait and see,” Blake said. “She knows that I’m interested in her. The ball’s in her court, now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Moving fast, I see. Very nice.” Ilia drummed her fingers on her comforter. “I tease, but I hope this works out for you. You deserve to be happy.” Blake looked down, meeting her shining eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You do too, Ilia. Adam ruined your life as much as he did mine,” she said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He kind of fucking did, didn’t he?” Ilia asked. “Well, there is something you can do to help me. I lied when I said your thing was more interesting than what I have going on.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lay it on me,” Blake said, happy to no longer be the subject of scrutiny.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So there are three girls–”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, Jesus!”</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>Yang was having what she could only describe as an existential crisis. For two nights in a row, she barely slept. Her head was too full of Blake. Her quiet laugh, her serious demeanor. The way it felt when she kissed her. Yang’s heart rate had not come down since Friday evening. She’d nearly wrecked her shit on the way home. Having to bail off her board to keep from smashing her face was enough of a kick in the ass for her to actually pull her head from the clouds until she got home. But as soon as she was safe in her own room, she was back in outer space.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She really liked Blake. More than she’d liked anyone before. And that was her problem. She had no idea how dating was actually supposed to work. For all her flirting and extroversion, she was rather shy about her dating life. It was part of the reason she never gave anyone the time of day. No one had felt important enough to breach the awkwardness of not knowing what she was doing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Until Blake. It all came back to her. Yang really needed to sort her shit out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>An early-morning text on Sunday morning gave her the opportunity. Her phone buzzed on her nightstand, rousing her to consciousness. The incessant vibration that followed told her it was from a group chat. Cursing her entire existence, she grabbed her phone and squinted into the brightness.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>J.A: Goin down to the court if anyone is MAN enough to face me</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>N.V: ILL KICK UR BUTT JAUNE DONT TEST ME</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>L.R: I’ll be there.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>J.A: HA ya right nora put ur money where ur moth is</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>N.V: OMG you said MOTH</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>J.A: MOUTH I MEAN MOUTH</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>W.S: Ha ha, moth</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>N.V: MOTH MOTH MOTH</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>P.N: I’ll bring my bball</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>R.R: guys this is WAY. TOO. EARLY.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>R.R: yang can i get a ride?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>W.S: It’s never too early to make fun of Jaune</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>N.V: Can I have a ride too, yang?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yang sighed and plopped her chin into her pillow. It had been a while since they went to the public basketball courts near Jaune’s neighborhood. Despite her lack of sleep, it sounded like fun. Besides, most of her friends had way more dating experience than her, even if some of it was knowing what crashing and burning was like. It was more than Yang had. Maybe if she tired them out before asking them about it she’d get actual advice and less teasing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Y.X.L: sis we liv n th sme hous u dnt hve to fuckn txt ya nora well pck uup</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your texting is a crime against God,” Ruby announced as Yang came into the kitchen. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s literally ten am on a Sunday, fucking sue me for not using proper grammar,” Yang said. “Is there coffee?” She made a beeline for the pot without waiting for Ruby’s response.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’d think that with all the time you spent texting Blake your messages would become more coherent.” Yang choked on her coffee, spraying it all over the counter. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Ew</span>
  </em>
  <span>! Why are you so disgusting?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t talk to me while I’m drinking coffee, asshole!” Yang wiped her nose, which was burning in pain from the coffee. Ruby bit her lip to hide a smile. She sprang to her feet, slamming her hands on the table.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You mean don’t talk to you about Blake while you’re drinking coffee?” She smirked as Yang gaped at her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah, what do you know? You’re just a punk kid.” Ignoring the pain in her nose and Ruby’s staring, she drained her mug. She grabbed a washcloth to clean up the mess she made, falling back on action to change the topic. “You ready to go?” Ruby nodded and followed her out the door.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ok, but why are you so fucking weird about her?” Ruby asked while Yang started up the car.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you mean fucking weird about her? We’re picking up Nora, by the way.” By extension, that meant Ren as well. The two lived on the way to the basketball courts.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I mean your coffee came out your nose when I mentioned her. That’s weird, even for you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t know. What do you think of her?” Yang asked. She already had Weiss and Pyrrha’s opinions, but Ruby’s mattered too. She was surprisingly astute for how childish she could sometimes act. And she was her sister, the most important person in the world to Yang.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Honestly, I don’t really know her. We don’t have any classes together and she doesn’t hang out with us. You’re the one who’s spent the most time with her. What do you think?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yang slid her palm against the steering wheel, hating how Ruby turned the question back on her. She was right to do so. Yang was going to go after what she wanted even if her friends tried to discourage her. What they thought mattered, but Yang was never one to go along with the crowd.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think she’s complicated, but I like that about her,” she said after a long moment. “She’s really smart. If you hung out with her, you’d like that about her.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh my God,” Ruby said as they pulled up at Nora’s house. The front door opened and she and Ren tumbled out. Ruby ignored them completely. “My sister is gay and in love. I have to go.” She reached for the door handle. Yang jammed her finger onto the lock button. Ruby whined as she tugged at the handle, trapped in the car.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You already knew that, dum-dum. Now quit being a shithead and </span>
  <em>
    <span>help me figure out how to fucking ask her to date me</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why is the door locked?” Nora’s loud voice was clear through the window. Ruby smashed her face against the glass.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Help me! Yang’s trying to ask me about </span>
  <em>
    <span>girls</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” she cried. “It’s cruel and unusual torture.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ruby, you are a girl,” Ren pointed out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Barely!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just let us in already! Don’t be so dramatic, Ruby,” Nora said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If I unlock the car, Ruby is </span>
  <em>
    <span>gone</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Yang said. “Hang on a second.” She twisted around to reach for the handle of the back door. She unlocked it manually and opened it for Ren and Nora, using her body to block Ruby from escaping to freedom. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yang no!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re the one who wanted a ride </span>
  <em>
    <span>and</span>
  </em>
  <span> who brought up the subject. If this is torture, it’s of your own damn making.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They continued scuffling in the front seat while Ren and Nora climbed in. With a savage grin, Nora reached around the passenger seat to drag Ruby into a chokehold that pinned her to the seat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Drive, Yang! I’ll hold her off!” She cried. Yang extricated herself from Ruby’s grasp and threw the car into drive.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tell us about these girls,” Ren said. His grin was more subdued than Nora’s, but it was plenty mischievous. Yang glared at him in the rearview mirror.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“First of all, it’s one girl,” she said, pulling away from the curb. “Second of all, Ruby has a big fat mouth and I don’t care that Nora is possibly going to kill her in my car.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No!” Ruby garbled. “Please...have mercy.” She tapped Nora’s arm to signal submission. Unfortunately, Nora didn’t take prisoners.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Knock it off, Nora,” Ren said, jabbing her in the ribs. Nora squealed and fell back into the seat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know I hate that. There has been a betrayal on this day!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“More than one betrayal,” Yang said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah! Everyone gang up on Yang. We might not get another chance to roast her for the next decade,” Ruby said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You roast me plenty,” Yang protested.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not about anything that matters.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, would you look at that! We’re here.” Yang threw the car into park violently enough to jostle her passengers. She stepped out of it. Jaune, Weiss, and Pyrrha were already at the court, warming up with some layups. Maybe she would be able to find some allies amongst them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Guys, Yang has a girlfriend!” Ruby announced the instant they stepped into the court.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I should have killed you when you were a toddler,” Yang groaned. “I should have let you drink that goddamn paint thinner and die from it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s been like three days since we last saw you. Even you can’t have moved </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> fast,” Jaune said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Two words. U-haul,” Nora sing-songed. Yang resisted the urge to clobber her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I didn’t come here for you guys to fuck with me,” Yang grumbled. “I came to kick your asses at basketball.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Be nice, you guys. She drove you three here,” Pyrrha said to Yang’s passengers. Yang shot her a silent look of gratitude. She wanted to take it back immediately when she saw the dangerous smile on her face. “How about we make a deal?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not going to like this deal, am I?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“For every person who beats you at HORSE, we get to ask you one question.” She spun the basketball in her hands as she spoke. “For everyone that you beat, you get something from us.” Yang paused, rocking from foot to foot.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If questions are the wager, I want to ask some of my own.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Excellent. I’ll start.” From where she was standing on the three-point line, Pyrrha turned to face the hoop. With perfect form, she sank the ball with the swish of a net. “None of you can hit the rim.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That isn’t fair!” Weiss complained. “Some of us have weak noodle arms.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pyrrha shrugged. “Sorry.” She didn’t sound very apologetic.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>HORSE was their standard fallback game when they had an odd number of players, but it was made even more interesting with a wager on the line. Yang struggled to fall into a rhythm without any warm-up. She wasn’t alone. Only Jaune was able to copy Pyrrha’s shot, and that was out of sheer luck.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They each took a turn making a shot for everyone to copy. Jaune followed Pyrrha with a layup everyone made, and Ruby did the same but left-handed. Nora did her signature screaming dunk while Ren shot a fade away. Weiss added a complicated dribble maneuver to hers that everyone fucked up. When it was Yang’s turn, she backed up to half court, making everyone groan when she made her signature shot.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The game continued in much the same way until Yang was knocked out in third place. Pyrrha won, to no one’s surprise, and Jaune came in second, to everyone’s. He must have been practicing with Pyrrha without the rest of them again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright. So.” Jaune bounce passed the ball to Ren before tenting his fingers together. “Interrogation time.” Yang rolled her eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I beat all these scrubs. Shouldn’t I get to ask my questions first?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nope. That’s question number one, by the way,” he said. Yang growled and stepped threateningly in his direction. “Eep! Pyrrha, you go first.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright.” She crossed her arms and a crease formed between her eyebrows as she thought. “What did you want to ask us?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Pyrrha! That was too nice,” Weiss said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What? I genuinely want to know.” Ruby came forward to place a hand on Pyrrha’s shoulder. She was the least sweaty, having put only the bare minimum amount of effort into the game. In her own words, she didn’t want to bother trying to keep up with a bunch of jocks when she’d end up losing anyway.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yang doesn’t deserve you,” she said, patting her gently.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Answer the question, Yang. Maybe that way we’ll get onto Jaune’s sooner,” Nora said. “You better have something juicy.” Jaune gulped under her intense stare.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Jesus, ok. Uh, I only had one question,” Yang said. Her palms were sweaty, and not just from her earlier exertion. Her throat was tight with nerves. “How do I ask someone out?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you freaking serious?” Weiss shrieked. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>That</span>
  </em>
  <span> is the high stakes question we were playing for? God, I shouldn’t have tried at all.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You are a flirting </span>
  <em>
    <span>machine</span>
  </em>
  <span>! What do you mean you don’t know how to ask someone out?” Nora asked.</span>
</p>
<p><span>“I am putting myself out there. Being vulnerable. And all I get in return is roasted.” Yang shook her head and clicked her tongue. “Tragic. What kind of shitty friends are you?”</span><span><br/></span> <span>“Observant ones. You always get asked out, yet you never do the asking,” Ren said. Everyone stared at him blankly. “Ok. Guess I’m the only observant one.”</span></p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright alright, let me ask my question,” Jaune said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No one has answered mine though,” Yang protested. Jaune held up a hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mine will lead you to your answer,” he said sagely. Yang crossed her arms, waiting for him to spit it out. “Do you know how to play the guitar?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wow. I didn’t think it was possible, but you asked a worse question than Pyrrha,” Nora said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Zip it! I’m going somewhere with this!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Jaune,” Yang said, trying to hold back her exasperation. “I have never touched a guitar in my life. No, I don’t know how to play.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s ok, I can teach you. You’d only need to know a couple of cords.” Jaune nodded to himself, a plan materializing in his head. “Yeah, that could work. You need to serenade this girl.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yang and the others stared at him blankly for a solid ten seconds before Yang spun on her heel and marched to her car. If they weren’t going to take this seriously, there was no reason she had to be here.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Jaune you idiot,” Weiss said. “Yang, come back! He was only being stupid.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re serious about this, aren’t you?” Ren said. Yang sighed and paused with her hand on the door. Her friends were well-meaning, but they were stupid teenagers. Her problem stemmed from being a stupid teenager. She needed advice from a different demographic.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nah, I’m just fucking with you guys.” She jogged back to the court. “Who’s up for another round? I have to get my crown back.” She hoped she asked with enough levity that they would let the topic drop.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, Dad?” Yang poked her head into the living room late that night after spending the entire day deliberating her problem and getting nowhere. Ruby had already locked herself in her room for the night, so Yang had the perfect chance to fish for some decent advice.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tai looked up from the tv. “Hey, kiddo! The Knicks are on if you want to watch with me?” He gestured toward the screen with his hand holding the remote.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh, I actually have a serious question for you.” His brow furrowed as she crept into the room.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s up? You didn’t get in trouble at school, did you? I would have heard about that.” He clicked off the tv. Yang settled next to him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, I didn’t,” she said. “This is very awkward and I know you’re kind of a disaster about it, but I need advice on how to date someone.” Tears welled immediately in Tai’s eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, my baby,” he said, barely containing a sob, “You’re growing up.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ok nevermind!” Yang tried to stand but Tai put a hand on her shoulder. </span>
</p>
<p><span>“No, you brought this to me. We’re doing this. I can hold it together.” Yang cautiously sat back down. Her skin prickled with awkwardness. Tai rubbed his chin and shifted uncomfortably on the couch, even though a moment ago he’d been the epitome of a couch potato. He cleared his throat. “I’m glad you feel comfortable enough to come to me. Now, the most important part is safety. If you do anything – not that you have to – it’s always best to use protection.”</span><span><br/></span> <span>“I don’t need </span><em><span>that</span></em><span> kind of advice!” Yang cried. She’d been scarred enough by this talk that happened in school. “I just don’t know anything about romance. Except for movies, but real life isn’t a movie.”</span></p>
<p>
  <span>“It can be, on occasion,” Tai said. “But you’re right. There’s a lot more work that goes into real life. As long as you’re honest about how you feel and able to have that conversation, well, that’s all you really need to know. There’s not really one way to do it, but if there’s trust involved I’m sure it will be fine. You’re a smart and beautiful young woman. Anyone would be lucky to have you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That was actually pretty good advice,” Yang said around the lump in her throat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What can I say? It’s part of the job.” Tai gave her a crooked smile. He threw an arm over the couch. “The job also includes me telling you not to get pregnant.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yang groaned and covered her face with her hands. “I don’t think you have to worry about that one.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Cool,” Tai said, nodding. “Then don’t get an STD. I’m begging you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“At least it will be a normal teenager problem you’ll have to deal with for once.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Eh, you girls at least make it interesting for me. Come here.” Tai pulled her into a one-armed hug and Yang sank into his side. “If you ever want to do a meet the parents thing, I’d be down for it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m so proud. You finally figured out how to use slang.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What can I say? I’m a cool dad.” Yang took a deep breath, finding she was able to do so much easier than before this conversation.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah. But don’t tell Ruby I said so.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>What better way to show you guys these pining nerds than to write their friends roasting the hell out of them? We also needed to get some catharsis and healing in there.</p>
<p>Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed. I really love writing this fic and reading all of your responses</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Ho boy, this chapter did NOT want to be written. I feel the need to apologize for such a late update. Have an extra-long chapter to make up for it!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>For the first time all year, Blake was excited about going to school after the weekend. Instead of having to drag herself out of bed, she was up before both of her parents. She finished breakfast before either of them came down and positioned herself in the kitchen to look out the window, watching the road for Yang’s car. She sipped her tea, barely feeling how it scalded the roof of her mouth. Yang was picking her up today! </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ghira walked into the kitchen, yawning and still in his pajamas. His hair stuck straight up on one side, a far cry from how he usually kept it neatly styled. He froze in the doorway, narrowing his eyes at Blake like he couldn’t believe she was there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I boiled extra water for you,” Blake said, not taking her eyes off the window except for her initial glance. Ghira shuffled over to the counter and poured his own mug of tea.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Something exciting going on at school today?” He asked, clearly bewildered at whatever could have Blake so enraptured. “You’re up early.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t want to keep Yang waiting,” Blake said with a shrug.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I see,” Ghira said, hiding his smile behind his mug. “Well, have fun with your Yang watching. I’m going to go get the paper.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blake couldn’t even bring herself to be exasperated with his old man habits. Yang’s car came into view and she was on her feet before she could pull in the driveway. Leaving her half-drunk tea on the kitchen table, Blake snatched up her backpack and dashed for the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bye, Dad!” She didn’t wait for a reply before slamming the front door. The mummy cackled as she passed and Blake hardly heard it. She was entirely focused on Ruby waving at her from the front seat. Next to her, Yang had one hand draped over the top of the steering wheel. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a force of will to keep herself composed at the sight of her. Blake sauntered toward the car, counting out her pace so she didn’t seem too eager. She opened the dented door and slid into the backseat, which was covered in wrinkled leather.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The inside of Yang’s car was miraculously clean for what Blake expected. She’d seen Yang’s locker. Her mind raced. Maybe Yang cleaned it out for her?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Morning,” she said, somewhat breathlessly. Yang was wearing her bomber jacket and aviators, though the day was barely bright enough to warrant them. She only managed to jerk her chin in greeting before Ruby took over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi, Blake! So glad you could join us. What kind of music do you like? Please say you like Arctic Monkeys. Yang never lets me play them, but if you’re on my side we have the majority. Plus, I feel like your vote has more weight than mine, huh Yang?” She said. She nudged her sister with her elbow, earning herself a swat. Yang opened her mouth to respond, but she paused as the front door of the house opened.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh oh,” Blake said as Ghira made a beeline for the car dressed in his robe and slippers. His brow furrowed with intensity. Blake knew exactly what was coming. “You should probably drive away.” Ghira made it to the car and rapped his knuckles against the driver’s side window before Yang could shift gears.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good morning, Mr. Belladonna,” Yang said, giving him her best smile as she rolled down the window. Her words were forced and stilted. Blake couldn’t fault her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hopefully it will stay that way,” Ghira rumbled. He leaned against the car to look at Yang head-on. His eyes flicked toward Blake in the backseat. “Blake, I don’t see you wearing your seatbelt.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just got in the car!” Scowling, she reached for the seatbelt anyway as Ghira turned his attention back to Yang.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now then. Remind me of how long you’ve had your license?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dad, please. We’re going to be late,” Blake said, wanting to melt into the seat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s had it for almost a year,” Ruby chimed in. “Got it the day she turned sixteen. It was so badass.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You must be Ruby,” Ghira said. Blake saw interest spark in his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no. We do not have time for you to give her the third degree,” Blake said, stepping in before he could get any momentum. “Seriously, we’re going to be fine. What happened to you thinking Yang was a ‘responsible young lady’ huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, alright. You girls have a good day at school.” Ghira pushed off the car and stepped back. “You better drive safe, you hear me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you Mr. Belladonna sir! We will.” Ruby waved enthusiastically to him as Yang rolled up her window.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry about that,” Blake said as they pulled out. She resisted the urge to slump in her seat from embarrassment. “I thought the worst of that would be over.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s no big deal,” Ruby said. “He seems really nice. You have a great family. Right, Yang?” She wiggled her eyebrows at her, making Blake feel like she was missing something.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yang frowned and cleared her throat. “Driving, Ruby,” she choked out. Blake frowned, her brow furrowing. Yang seemed off, somehow. She was squeezing the life out of the beat-up steering wheel, her locked elbows making each turn jerky. Her cheeks were flush and her eyes darted about as she avoided Blake’s gaze in the rearview mirror.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Only she and Yang seemed to sense the strange tension in the car. Ruby chattered away like nothing was wrong, barely letting either of them get a word in. Blake stared at Yang the whole way to school, daring her to turn around with a grin and a cheap line that would make Blake have to hide her smile. She didn’t crack once, not even as they parked in the student lot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll see you in class?” Blake asked, trying to bridge the unexplainable gap that yawned between them. The ease she felt with Yang seemed to have evaporated overnight, and Blake couldn’t for the life of her figure out why.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure. I’ll be right there,” Yang’s tone was neutral as she slung her backpack over her shoulder. She barely glanced at Blake as she spoke, keeping her eyes fixed on the crumbling asphalt. “I have to stop by my locker real quick.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why can’t Blake go with you?” Ruby asked before Blake could scrounge up the courage to do so.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re going to the same place! I’ll see her in two minutes,” Yang whined as she backed toward the school.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blake watched her go while biting the inside of her cheek with concern. While she wasn’t being cold, exactly, Yang was acting </span>
  <em>
    <span>weird</span>
  </em>
  <span>. She exchanged a glance with Ruby, who looked just as puzzled as she felt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you guys have a fight or something?” Ruby asked. She seemed a little too curious for Blake’s comfort, but Blake had other things to worry about to dwell on it for long.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>The exact opposite</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Blake thought. Everything was going great between them. Was this Yang’s reputation coming true? She got what she wanted from Blake and immediately lost interest? If it was, Blake couldn’t see how anyone else Yang led on could forgive her. She felt like the sun fell out of the sky. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She parted ways with Ruby after they passed through the metal detectors, making a beeline for her homeroom the moment Ruby was out of sight. She arrived breathlessly in the doorway and couldn’t help but perk up when she saw Yang in her seat. They just needed a minute to check-in, confirm that the weirdness in the car was just a fluke. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blake rushed to her seat, melting with relief when Yang smiled warmly at her. She had one elbow on her desk and rested her cheek on her fist, staring at Blake like she was the only person in the room. She scooched her chair closer to Blake once she sat down, knocking their knees together. Blake couldn’t keep her relief from showing on her face, especially when Yang opened her mouth to say something.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, Yang,” a singsong voice interrupted before she could. Yang’s jaw closed with a click and her eyes darkened as one of their classmates draped herself across her desk. Blake recoiled with a squeak of her chair at the explosion of color and energy before her. “What’s this I hear about you throwing a total rager on Halloween?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi Neon,” Yang said through gritted teeth. “I wasn’t aware I was throwing anything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ugh, that </span>
  <em>
    <span>sucks</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Neon said, throwing back her head dramatically. She put one hand on Blake’s desk so she wouldn’t fall over. Blake couldn’t keep her lip from curling. “You’re like the worst sister ever. It’s Ruby’s first birthday in high school and you’re not even going to throw her a party?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is this about Halloween or Ruby?” Blake asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have more questions.” Neon ignored her, having eyes only for Yang. Blake nearly shoved her off their desks. “When you decide you’re totally going to have it, I want an invite. It’ll be a front-row seat to all the drama. The rumor mill is totally going crazy about you right now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is it?” Blake had no idea how Yang stayed so aloof. The only hint of her annoyance was a tick in her jaw. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blake side-eyed some of the other kids in their class who were clearly listening in to the conversation, hoping one of them could distract Neon. None of them looked upset that her attention was locked on Yang. Blake couldn’t fault them. She discovered Neon was not her cup of tea earlier in the year.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes. It’s always interesting when your love life finally picks up. I heard there were bets going around that you finally got it on with Pyrrha,” Neon said. Blake’s vision went white with rage. That was the most ridiculous rumor she’d ever heard, and it made her furious.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You need to back off,” Yang finally snapped. “Get off my desk before I make you.” Blake had never heard her use such a tone. It was shocking enough to make her forget her own anger as she gaped at Yang’s blazing face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow, violent,” Neon said, rolling smoothly to her feet. She held up her hands, the perfect picture of innocence. “Should I go find a security officer and report you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Go away! I won’t tell you again,” Yang growled. She crossed her arms and slumped in her chair, pinning her gaze on the front of the room as she staunchly ignored Neon. Blake added her own glare to drive her away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As soon as she was gone, Yang’s forehead hit her desk. She didn’t raise it even after the bell rang and Oobleck started shouting at them. Whatever moment they might have had was put off, and for the rest of the day, Yang held so far back from anything that resembled a conversation she was basically in orbit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The next few days were more of the same. Blake only got into the car with her to see if she could prompt the return of the old Yang. A few times, Yang opened her mouth as if to speak and Blake thought she succeeded. But Yang would inevitably clam up, whether because someone else spoke before she got in her own way. Blake did her best to act like she was above it all, the way she expected she would actually feel about this school had she not met Yang.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But just because she acted unaffected didn’t mean she was. By Thursday, she was so wound up that struggling through her homework felt like she was slamming her head into a brick wall the entire time. There was no way she could focus on algebra when her mind was too occupied trying to sort out Yang’s strange behavior. It was nearly eleven when she finally called it quits, numbers swimming behind her eyelids every time she blinked. With a scoff of disgust, she started packing it up so it was out of her sight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A tap at her window made her glance up. Her jaw dropped in shock when she saw Yang watching her earnestly from the other side. She gave Blake a small wave and motioned for her to open the window. Blake couldn’t pull herself together enough to leave her chair. After the week they’d had, this was the last thing she expected of her Thursday night. She stared with her mouth agape at Yang, who’s expression fell as Blake made no move to open the window. Yang pulled her phone out of her jacket pocket and Blake’s buzzed a moment later</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>plz let me in</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Blake worried her lip, staring at the message without opening it. The pleading stare from the other side of her window pierced her to the soul. She couldn’t hold out for long. Against her better judgment, she tossed her phone on her bed and opened the window.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you doing here? How the hell did you get on my roof?” Blake asked. Yang hooked her fingers over the windowsill, finding a more stable grip now the window was open.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You left the ladder out from when we were decorating, it wasn’t hard. I wanted to see you. Can I come in?” Somehow, the words made her expression become even softer. Blake crumbled for those lavender eyes. She sighed and stepped away from the window.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Couldn’t you have used the front door like a normal person?” She asked as Yang crawled into her room. “I could have snuck you in.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know, some people find this to be a romantic gesture,” Yang said. “Also, I didn’t want that fucking mummy to go off.” Blake pressed her lips together to hide a smile. This was more like the Yang she knew.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I would find it romantic if you weren’t so aloof all week,” Blake said, crossing her arms to try to retain a semblance of cool. It was difficult talking to Yang while she was debating between throttling and kissing her, but Blake forced herself to commit to a badly needed conversation. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yang rubbed the back of her neck, her cheeks pink in the dim light of Blake’s room. The overhead light wasn’t on, only the lamp on her desk where she was doing homework.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ok, I realize I was being very uncool,” Yang said. Blake only raised her eyebrow, prompting her to explain. “It was like every time I tried to talk to you, someone would interrupt or my brain would short circuit and nothing would come out. I was trying to play it cool, but I have no idea how to do that without seeming too overbearing and scaring you away.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“At least I’m getting an explanation,” Blake said, trying to bring some levity to the conversation. “Unlike some of your other flings.” She couldn’t help herself from going there. Yang’s words and presence weren’t enough to wash away all of the hurt she felt all week.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ok, I know how I’ve been acting, but I swear you mean more to me than anyone I’ve done anything with before. Which is not as many people as this school makes it sound like,” Yang said, eyes flashing. Her cheeks were red and she hardly breathed as she rushed to get the words out. She took a purposeful breath, trying to calm herself down. “The thing is, I put on a good show but I really have no idea what I’m doing when it comes to dating. I spent all weekend trying to figure it out and I still fucked up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The admission utterly demolished any kind of walls Blake was trying to put up. Watching Yang be so vulnerable, her arms fell to her sides. The ice that started to creep around her heart to protect it melted immediately. She felt it beat again for the first time since Yang showed up outside her window.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why didn’t you just tell me?” She asked. It was a struggle to keep her voice from breaking, and she had to whisper to manage it. The whole conversation had been quiet thus far so as to not disturb Ghira and Kali down the hall, but Blake was hardly audible. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yang shrugged. “Maybe because I’m an idiot sometimes? And people really need to mind their own business. I don’t know. I just really really like you, and I don’t want to mess this up.” Blake gave a small laugh and threw her head back to look at the ceiling. The sight of Yang was too overwhelming right now. She just needed a moment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I really like you too, and I also don’t want you to mess this up,” she said, watching Yang’s shadow lose some of its tension.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah? Cool.” Blake could practically hear the smile in her voice as she shoved her hands into her jacket pockets and rocked back on her heels. “This may sound weird considering I snuck into your bedroom at almost midnight, but how do you feel about taking things slow so that doesn’t happen?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blake forced herself to stop and consider, peeling her gaze off the ceiling. Her emotions were all over the place tonight, and Yang’s presence wasn’t helping her focus. Especially not looking attractively disheveled with one shoelace coming undone and her hair poofing out like a halo behind her head, attracting what little light there was in the room. The bashful look on her face made Blake want to dart over and throw her arms around her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As much as she wanted whatever </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span> was, there was an anchor of fear in the back of her mind. What would it look like from the outside seeing her jump into another relationship so soon after everything that happened with Menagerie? She took a deep breath and consciously pushed those thoughts away with the help of a voice that sounded suspiciously like Ilia. She was allowed to move on at her own pace, and Yang was offering her the wheel. It made Blake fall for her that much more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think that would be a bad idea,” she said slowly. Every inch of her wanted to jump Yang then and there, and it was harder to restrain herself from that than her darker thoughts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yang nodded, mostly to herself. “Cool, cool. Glad we’re on the same page.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Har har, because I like books.” Blake rolled her eyes, the heat inside her tempered momentarily. “You’re so corny.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I actually didn’t mean to do that one,” Yang said, sounding entirely too pleased with herself. “But from the way this conversation is going, I think you like the corn.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please tell me you have more than one setting. Otherwise, I don’t think this is going to work,” Blake said, crossing her arms and leveling a disapproving look at Yang.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve seen me better than most people. If anyone was going to bring out a different side of me, it would be you. Always you.” Yang was nearly breathless as she spoke. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blake swallowed. This conversation was like whiplash. Spoken with such softness, in this lighting, and with memories of the last time they were in this room together rushing through Blake’s head, Yang’s words made heat pool in Blake’s stomach. The floor creaked as she took a step forward, and then another. It took all her self control to keep her hand from shaking as she reached out for Yang’s. Her skin was warm and slightly calloused, and she inhaled sharply at the contact. All rational thought abandoned Blake.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re cute,” she blurted out. Yang laughed softly and laced their fingers together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blake’s heart was doing somersaults in her chest. “Probably the same as what you do to me.” Yang hummed, rubbing her thumb over the back of Blake’s hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I kind of want to kiss you now if that’s ok?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Only kind of?” The snark died in her throat as Yang leaned in to make good on her words. She rested one hand against Blake’s cheek, tilting her head so they fit together perfectly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For someone who claimed to not know how to date, Yang sure knew how to kiss. Blake’s eyes fell shut as their lips moved against each other. She tasted like citrus and sandalwood, and Blake couldn’t get enough. Her hand squeezed the life out of Yang’s, but she hardly noticed over the warmth of Yang’s body pressed so close. Blake’s free hand settled on Yang’s hip. She felt the hitch in her breath and her eyes fluttered half-open, unable to resist sneaking a peek at Yang’s expression.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It still wasn’t clear if she dreamed this moment to life. This was so far removed from any possible scenario she could have imagined for tonight. The last of her ire vanished entirely as she drank in the openness on Yang’s face. With her eyes closed, her long lashes nearly brushed her flushed cheeks. They were so close that Yang’s freckles blurred together in Blake’s vision.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blake let go of her hand to brush up Yang’s arm. Yang whimpered at the loss and groped blindly before settling on holding Blake’s elbow. Blake’s fingers closed around the lapel of her jacket, digging into the soft leather. She stepped backward, dragging Yang with her. She put up little resistance, stumbling after Blake while trying not to pull away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The back of Blake’s legs ran into her bed. With much hesitance, she broke the kiss. Yang’s eyes fluttered open. They were filled with confusion, even as Blake’s hands went to her shoulders and she guided her to sit on the bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Didn’t we just talk about going slow?” Yang gasped. Her pupils were blown wide, nearly obscuring the lavender of her eyes. Blake sat beside her, biting her lip to relieve the absence of Yang against it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe that can be when it comes to telling people,” she said. “Besides. We’re just getting more...comfortable.” Her ears burned as she spoke. She was quickly learning her ability to be coherent was inversely related to her proximity to Yang. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yang only hummed in response. “Fine with me,” she said, already leaning in to kiss Blake again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Though they started by gripping Yang’s jacket, Blake’s hands eventually itched with the need to wander. One of them snaked around Yang’s back, brushing against her hair ever so gently. She gasped into Yang’s mouth. Her hair was as soft as she had imagined it. And she’d spent a lot of time with that daydream. It was almost enough to distract her from the way Yang’s hands hovered awkwardly, not quite sure where to rest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not going to break, you know,” Blake said. Yang froze against her. “I don’t mind if you touch me.” Ever so slowly, Yang’s hands settled on her hips. Blake tried not to flinch at the pleasant spark her touch invoked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know, right back at you,” Yang said. Blake stiffened. She hadn’t even realized she was doing the same thing as Yang. No wonder this week was so difficult for them. They were each too cognizant of the lines they shouldn’t cross, steering far clear of them just to be safe. They weren’t getting anywhere that way, so Blake swallowed her fear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know you don’t like just anyone touching your hair,” she said slowly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yang shrugged. “You’re not just anyone.” Blake’s eyes slammed shut as the words dragged up emotion from depths she barely knew she had. It was all too surreal and not real enough at the same time. If she wasn’t already sitting down, she doubted her ability to stay upright for long.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now she had permission, she wasted no more time before burying one shaking hand in Yang’s hair. The sudden need for more overwhelmed her, and she pressed a kiss to the corner of Yang’s jaw.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re not just anyone either,” she murmured into her ear. Yang groaned as she worked her way down her neck. She tugged on Yang’s hair to tilt her head back and give her better access to her pulse point.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh my fucking god.” Yang’s voice hitched as Blake scraped her teeth against her skin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He has nothing to do with this, but I’ll take the compliment,” Blake said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re the wo-o-rst!” She covered her own mouth with a hand as Blake sucked hard against her neck. “What the fuck?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry, too far?” Blake asked, not sounding very sorry at all. The flush from Yang’s cheeks had spread down her neck to her chest. A strange sense of pride fluttered in Blake from knowing she caused it, that Yang was at least as flustered as she felt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“N-no,” Yang stuttered. “Just wondering. Is it hot in here, or is that just you?” Blake’s eyes slammed shut in exasperation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t believe I’m making out with you,” she said. Still, she fit her hands under Yang’s jacket and started to work it off her shoulders. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, you’re pretty lucky, huh?” Yang pulled her arms from the sleeves, not caring when she turned them inside out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead of responding, Blake surged forward to kiss her again. The jacket fell on the floor and neither of them cared. Yang’s hands fell to her waist again. Blake resisted a shiver as she brushed her skin where her shirt had ridden up slightly. She suddenly very much agreed with Yang that it was too hot. Her insides were jumbled as she melted against Yang, feeling as though she could never get enough of this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ever so carefully, one of Yang’s arms snaked around Blake’s waist. She broke the kiss and Blake whined in protest, even as she pulled her down so they could lay side by side on the bed. Blake could hardly get a full breath around her heart hammering in her throat. She pulled herself close to Yang, a necessity for them to both fit laying down. For once Blake didn’t mind having such a narrow bed, as it was an excuse to pull herself flush against Yang. She slid one foot up her shin as their lips met. Yang’s jeans bunched up by her knee and she sighed into Blake’s mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was difficult to stay quiet as Yang’s lips parted when she pressed forward. Yang’s arm was a comforting weight around her waist, grounding her so she didn’t float away. With how intoxicated she felt, it was entirely possible. Kissing Yang like this was so surreal, so incredible, Blake couldn’t believe she hadn’t done it sooner, Yang’s moodiness be damned. Maybe this was an important trick to learn if they were serious about moving forward.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blake’s hand was toying at the hem of Yang’s shirt, searching for the smooth expanse of her back when a knock at the door made her flinch. Yang’s teeth jarred against her lip painfully and Blake briefly saw panic in her lilac eyes before she was rolling away off of the bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She rocketed upright as Yang crashed to the floor with a painful sounding thunk, heat blazing under her skin that had both everything and nothing to do with their interrupted activities. The door creaked open and Blake sat like a deer in headlights as Kali poked her head into the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What was that sound?” She asked, brow scrunched with concern. Blake’s tongue was thick in her mouth as she felt like evidence of Yang was all over her lips, still throbbing from when Yang bit her unexpectedly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A–a book. You startled me when you knocked,” she choked out the terrible lie. Out of the corner of her gaze, she saw that Yang somehow managed to roll under the bed to hide. Whether Kali noticed or not remained to be seen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“From the sound, it was a big one. Must be good, then, if you didn’t hear me come up,” Kali said. Blake shook her head. She couldn’t believe that worked and that Kali was still clueless. As long as she stayed in the doorway, there was still a chance for Blake to pull this one off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is,” she said, barely able to string the two words together. “What’s up?” She swung her legs over the side of the bed, hoping to give Yang some more cover.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was just going to bed when I saw your light on, so I thought I’d say goodnight and remind you not to stay up too late,” Kali said, leveling what she thought was a stern gaze at Blake. Rattled as she was, the look had her quaking where she sat. It quickly morphed into a smile. “So goodnight! Love you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Love you too,” Blake croaked, feeling like she just barely escaped an avalanche as Kali began to withdraw.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The relief didn’t last long, as Kali’s gaze landed on the floor. “Huh? That isn’t your jacket, is it?” Blake zeroed in on Yang’s crumpled bomber jacket laying just beside her bed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her mind went completely blank under the pressure. She could almost feel Yang’s breath against her ankles, stifled as she tried not to give herself away. The skirt on the bed hid her for the most part, as long as it didn’t get tucked up awkwardly when she rolled through it. Blake couldn’t check without giving herself away</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, no it’s not,” she said. “It’s Yang’s. She left it here this weekend and I keep forgetting to give it back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Forgetting, huh?” Kali smirked knowingly. “We can put it downstairs to help you remember.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s ok. I’ll put it with my backpack,” Blake yelped, shooting to her feet. She scooped up the jacket and dumped it near her desk before bolting toward the door. “I’m really tired. Goodnight! Love you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She all but shoved Kali out of the room, slamming the door behind her and leaning against it. Her laughter echoed from the hallway, worming under Blake’s boiling skin and making her want to die. She was going to get so much shit for that later, but it was better than the truth coming out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is it safe?” Yang’s disembodied voice asked. She barely spoke louder than a whisper,  pulling back the skirt ever so slightly when Blake didn’t respond. She peered up with wide eyes as Blake let out a dizzying breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That was too close. I can’t believe she fell for that,” Blake said, pushing off the door and moving to help Yang up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Me either. Especially when she saw my jacket. I thought we were done for.” Yang shivered as Blake settled them on the bed again, more for stability than anything else. They were both rattled, though merely being close to Yang helped calm Blake’s adrenaline. She was finally able to focus on one thing at a time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you ok? That sounded like it hurt.” She skimmed her hands across Yang’s shoulders, down her arms, checking for any injuries. It was only her quick action that saved them from a very awkward conversation. Blake would feel terrible if she hurt herself in the process.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My wrist is a little sore,” she said, cradling one limp hand in the other and jutting out her lower lip in a pout. “Will you kiss it better for me?” Blake’s empathy evaporated at the confirmation that Yang was playing up her injury. At least it meant she was fine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are shameless,” she said, rolling her eyes. Still, she took Yang’s hand and pressed a kiss to the inside of her wrist. She was close enough to hear Yang’s breath hitch, feel her pulse race.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But you fell for it,” Yang said weakly. She tucked a strand of Blake's hair behind her ear and Blake leaned into the touch, resting her cheek on Yang’s palm. “This is going to make for a great story one day.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shameless,” Blake repeated, not finding it within herself to be all that bothered by it. Her arm went around Yang’s shoulders as she brought their foreheads together. Ever so slowly, her breathing steadied and the terror drained from her limbs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She couldn’t say how long they sat there, drawing comfort from sharing the silence and closeness. They eventually shifted to a more comfortable embrace, with Blake’s head resting on Yang’s shoulder. The mood from earlier had sailed and wrecked already, but neither of them was ready to give up on their closeness now that things between them were ok again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I should probably get going,” Yang said when the clock on Blake’s nightstand flashed quarter to one. Blake hummed and found a grip on Yang’s shirt, unwilling to let her go. If she did, this might all turn out to be a dream. Yang’s hand rose to the back of Blake’s head. “I’ll be back in just a few hours, but we should definitely sleep before then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Biting down on suggesting Yang could sleep here, Blake reluctantly drew back. With the heaviness in her eyelids, she had to admit Yang was right. Neither of them was likely to sleep well if she stayed over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They disentangled themselves and Blake walked Yang to the window, letting go of her hand to open it. Yang grabbed her jacket and stuffed her arms into it before meeting Blake at the window. Using Blake’s offered arm for balance, Yang slung one leg into the night air. She sat there, straddling the windowsill and looking up at Blake like a thought came to her mind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know, as terrible as she is, Neon reminded me of something,” Yang said, playing with Blake’s fingers. “We’re throwing a Halloween/birthday party the Saturday after Halloween. I know crowds aren’t really your thing, but it would be kind of dope if you came by for a little.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your dad is going to let you throw a party?” Blake asked, covering for the fact that her heart jumped into her throat at the thought of what it might entail. Dancing, probably. Drinking, maybe. Staying the night? She didn’t want to get her hopes up, but they went anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He has a work thing until late. Signal University is hosting its own party and they need chaperones. He drew the short straw this year.” Yang still didn’t lift her gaze, continuing to fidget with Blake’s hands. Hers were slightly clammy, even as she shivered from the cold breeze from outside. “You don’t have to stay for long, or even come at all if you don’t want to. If you need to think about it you can always text me later.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll be there,” Blake said without any further hesitation. Yang’s head shot up, revealing a sunbeam smile that melted Blake immediately. She surged forward to plant a reassuring kiss on Yang’s cheek, unable to restrain herself from one final indulgence. Yang’s smile grew even more dopey if that was possible.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Great! I’ll text you the details? It’s a dress-up party, so wear something fun.” Blake couldn’t bring herself to be ashamed at where her mind went at the mention of “fun.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She helped Yang the rest of the way out the window, holding onto her hand as long as she could. Yang tiptoed to the edge of the roof where she left the ladder and started to climb back down. She gave one final wave before disappearing over the edge. Blake heard the quiet scrape of the ladder against the side of the house a few moments later. She regretfully retreated back into her room, closing the window softly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Standing in the middle of her bedroom, Blake pressed her hand over her mouth as if to hold onto the feeling of Yang’s kisses for that much longer. No, she thought, the night did not go the way she thought it would. Yang had a way of grabbing her worst expectations and throwing them out the window. Blake knew there was no way she’d be so far on her way to being ok again without Yang there holding her hand. She couldn’t find it in herself to feel guilty for patching up her scars as she did in the immediate aftermath of Adam. Though she knew full well how dangerous it was to tie herself to another person, Yang made her feel like it was all worth it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blake managed to sleep easier that night than she had in a long time. Her usual restless thoughts stayed quiet for once, and the world seemed right-side-up and stable. She didn’t have to fear how long it would last, only enjoy it while it was.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Kali isn't nearly as dumb as she appears, she just knows when to pick her battles. Let me know your guesses on what they're going to dress up as! Thank you so much for your patience in this story, i promise it will be worth it. I'm thinking three more chapters? Maybe??? We'll see, that's a rough estimate</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you all for reading! This is going to be my side project while I work on atla au, so I will post as I write. it probably won't have as consistent updates. hopefully the fluff will only grow from here!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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